


I’d be Okay Living Life Wanting to Die with You

by goobzoop



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Characters Start as Children, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ferard, Frerard, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Minor Character Death, No Romance Until They're Older, Slow Burn, Strong Language, This Will Eventually Turn Explicit, cursing, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:40:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goobzoop/pseuds/goobzoop
Summary: Edit: im sorry I haven't been updating this!Gerard and Frank start off as two young kids just trying to navigate the summer having as much fun as possible. A fic about growing up, and growing together. Bumbling around, confusing feelings, coming of age. AU with some similarities.Frank moves to town and Gee finally makes a friend but his mom has a severe mental disorder and he gets sent away to a group home.Please read tags for TW info, and I will be updating them as the story progresses because I'm making it up as I go along.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 53
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! And thanks for reading. I wonder how many people are reading Frerard on a Wednesday night? 
> 
> I haven't written Frerard since I was a teen and it makes me feel like one again. Although tbh I think I only wrote one really, really shitty fic when I was younger. All my feels are coming out now that MCR is back in action and I may finally get to see them live. Thank you, babyjesus.

Jersey is one of those shit-hole places that’s more of a pitstop than a destination. The kind of place you roll your windows up for as you pass through. You run your finger along the map to find the fastest route to the parkway and speed up before it swallows you whole. The cigarettes strewn about the sides of the roads and the balled up fast food bags alert you that someone lives in this godforsaken place, but for the life of you, you just can’t figure who would do that to themselves. If you kept driving an hour down the parkway, you’d turn up some place better where the buildings weren’t littered in half-assed vandalism, and peoples faces weren’t littered with perpetual scorns. Some place better. 

Gerard didn’t know that. (He didn’t even have his license yet; he didn’t stand a chance.)

He was born in a dingy hospital in the center of a city known for their sky-high crimes rates and greasy pork rolls. It was all he had ever known. If you were to tell him that there were towns out there that you could photograph and it wouldn’t come out looking like a 1930’s great depression era postcard, well, he wouldn’t have listened to a word of it. When shit is all you know, shit is all you expect.

He was only 12. It didn’t stop Jersey from breaking him down. From sharpening his edges so razor thin that they could cut you just by looking. Jersey had lured away his father with the promise of the end of a bottle that he could never quite reach, and for his mother, it was an eroding darkness that sucked her under and held her captive in a far away place. For himself, he was just starting to find out what it had in store. 

But there’s always a calm before a storm. 

That calm came in a pretty package, and his name was Frank. He met Frank in the park on a Saturday evening in July when the fireflies were still out searching for light. 

“Hey freak!” Came the voice of a kid who was barely human and more of an untrained animal, the kind you sent to the pound so you didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“Leave me alone.” Gerard couldn’t count the amount of times this phrase had left his mouth in the last year alone. More times than there were trees in the park. More times than his frantically beating heart was currently repping per minute. 

“It’s fucking July, dude, why are you wearing a hoodie for christ sake?” The animal snared. 

“He’s a fucking _emo_ , that’s why.” A red haired boy brandishing a devilish pair of pursed lips spat out. 

“Hey— take out those fucking earbuds, freak, I’m talking to ya!” The animal came towards him, stalking its prey. He jabbed his finger in the direction of Gerard to signify his pursuit. 

Gerard could feel the venom dripping off their words; it wasn’t his presence that was provoking the boys, but the fact that he was _there_ , with feelings that could be _hurt_ and skin that could be _bruised_. Gerard himself was inconsequential. He turned up the volume on his CD player and looked the other way, tucking his chin down into his hoodie. Maybe if he folded himself so far up in a little ball, no-one could see him. 

That was a pipe-dream. 

“Are you fucking stupid? I said—“ The animal grabbed Gerard’s headphones, yanking them out like a life support plug. _pluck._ “Take out those fucking buds, I’m _talking_ to ya, idiot!”

“Hey! G-give those back!” Gerard reached out, swinging his arms fruitlessly, his voice wavering. He sat on his rock like a beached whale squirming around for something to breathe. 

“Come ’n get ‘em emo-boy!” The red haired devil taunted as the buds were tossed over to him. 

Gerard didn’t bother to get up from his perch. There was no point in playing games like those. They never ended well for him. At least this way, he could avoid physical harm. Emotional was a given, but physical he could stave off on occasion. 

“Aw, little emo boy is too scared!” Gerard looked the other way, trying to ignore them. 

“Fuckin’ figures, didn’t think he had it in em. He’s just gonna sit there and take it, fucking pussy!” Their unbridled hate ricocheted off one another in a frenzy of wild teenage emotion. They laughed, laughed, laughed. 

“Maybe I should give ‘em back, Dave, whadda think? He could make a noose with ‘em and hang himself!” The red haired kid snickered, eyes glinting. 

“Bet he’d like it. I bet he gets off to that!” Dave hooted.

Dave pranced up to the red haired kid and grabbed one end of Gerard’s headphones, yanking it with a determined force, and snapping the wire. He tossed the freed bud up in the air and whistled. “Looke’ that!” 

He failed to catch it, and the devil kid scooped it up off the floor before winding it up and sent it rocketing towards Gerard, who it hit square in the face with a solid _thunk_. It sent the two boys into hysterics. 

It doesn’t take much to entertain a brain the size of a walnut. 

“Hey! That the fuck was _that_ you bags of fucking dicks?” A small boy passing by had witnessed the rocketing of Gerard’s earphones, seeing it crash land on the surface of his forehead. “You’re absolute pricks! I’m gonna kick your asses!”

“Oh yeah, you and what army?” Dave snorted, looking the small boy up and down. 

“An army of fuckin’ gnomes, probably!” The red haired kid howled. 

The smaller boy zipped right towards Dave, and crashed into his legs, sending him straight to the ground. _Thump._ Then, a flurry of fists. _fisst, fisst, fisst._ Before Dave could even register what happened, his nose bust open, oozing sticky red blood. It covered The small boy’s fists, smearing everywhere in his frantic rush of movements. 

“What the _fuck?!_ ” The red haired boy dove at the smaller one, grabbing behind his shoulders and throwing him to the side. “What are you doing you little shit?!”

“Ah, christ.” Dave sat up, clutching his crunched-up nose, and spat out blood that had dribbled into his mouth. “I need a fucking… I need an ice-pack or something, Jesus, Trevor, help me up!”

Trevor hoisted Dave up, and shot Frank a nasty glare before guiding his friend back to whatever snake pit they slithered out of. 

“You deserve that and more, you pricks!” The smaller boy yelled from the ground where he was still sitting, covered in dirt and blood. He scooped up the broken wires that laid beside him, and stalked over to the boy on the rock with an angry red welt on his face. “Uh, these are yours.”

Gerard didn’t look over at the smaller boy offering him back his twisted, broken wires. 

“Hello? I said these are yours?” The kid waved them around, whipping them in the air. _whizzt_. Trying to catch Gerard’s attention. “I’m Frank. Are you going to look at me? I just saved your ass, dude!”

“Leave me alone, okay?” Gerard wouldn’t meet Frank’s wild eyes. 

“What’s the matter? They left! You can chill out now.” 

“I just want to be alone, okay!?” Gerard huffed, sliding off the rock, and storming past Frank, who was swatting a fly buzzing around his head. 

“Wait a minute! You didn’t even tell me your name!” 

“Why do you care?” 

“Cause. You’re sitting all alone there. You look like you needed a friend!”

“I don’t need anyone.” 

“Look dude, I just saved you from an ass-kicking, the least you can do is be nice to me!” Frank stomped his feet into the ground. “They were like, 14, maybe even 15! And huge! You could say _thanks._ ”

Gerard eyed him for a moment, watching the way his cheeks were pink from aggression, or physical exertion, he wasn’t sure. “Thanks.”

Frank rolled his eyes, holding out the broken wires one more time. “Take these, okay?”

“They’re broken.” Gerard didn’t reach for them. 

“Maybe you could fix em.”

“Erm, no. I don’t know how to do stuff like that.” Gerard looked past Frank. “I gotta go. My moms expecting me home before dark.”

“Oh. Okay.” Frank said uncertainly. “Well, bye.”

Gerard didn’t respond. 

With that, Gerard stalked off into the shadows of the streets, chasing a lie that wasn’t entirely untrue. His mom would be expecting him, just not before dark. It would probably take a few days, but she’d notice if he stopped showing up eventually. 

He hoped, at least.


	2. Ziggy Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Gerard start to become friends.

Gerard woke up the next morning far too late to take advantage of the cool mornings of the early summer days. Instead, he stumbled out of bed at half past noon. Only one small sliver of light filtered in through the sole basement window in the corner of his room. Most young kids his age would have taken every opportunity that the summer threw at them to jump out of bed and run to the park and join their friends for a game of kickball or baseball, or some other sport. Gerard would rather sit around lose himself in a decent album and a blank drawing pad. He stuffed everything he’d needed for the day into his backpack and headed up the stairs. 

His little brother, Mikey, had long since left the house, and was probably with his friends Matt and James off playing soccer, he being one of those kids who was full of life and excited to be running around in the sun kicking balls and throwing things. All of his dirty extra equipment was haphazardly strewn across the living room, remnants of dirt from his cleats crumpled by the door and tracked around the kitchen. 

Gerard tiptoed carefully over to the back end of the house, and poked his head in the last door. It was dark inside, much like his own. Blackout curtains could stave off even the brightest of days. The outline of his mother shifted slightly and Gerard’s heartbeat sped up; he felt scared. Had he woken her? 

“M-mom?” He whispered into the dark room. 

No reply. Was that a good thing? 

He felt relief, so it may have been. 

He closed the door and left her to her day holed up in the house. A few snacks from the kitchen were tossed in his bag, and he headed off to the park.

What he didn’t expect was to find there was that little bottle rocket of a kid sitting in his spot like he owned the place. There’s something sacred in a summer hideout. It gives you the consistency of being _there_ everyday, just the way you left it. It’s yours, and in a way, you belong to it too. Day in, day out, you scurry your little feet back to the same familiar place and just like that, you’ve bonded. Humans like that; a sense of belonging. A sense of consistency. It makes them feel whole. Frank was not helping Gerard feel very whole at this moment. His feet dangled off Gerard’s large jutting rock, and he was sat right in Gerard’s snug little alcove, peeling the moss off in stripes on the side. 

“Hey- just because you beat those kids up, it doesn’t give you the _right_ to take my spot. This is my spot. I sit here everyday!” Gerard vomited out the words as he approached the smaller boy. Who even was this kid anyway? 

“Huh? I can too sit here. You don’t own it!” Frank retorted. 

“Yes, I do!” 

“You can’t _own_ a rock!”

“Yes I can, and I own that one, and it’s mine, so get off!” Gerard got closer to Frank, but failed to yank him off. It wasn’t in his nature. 

“Well fine, geez, I thought we were friends. I’ll get off, okay? I didn’t think you’d mind.” Frank hopped down and brushed some dirt off his shorts, giving Gerard a side eye. 

“We’re not friends. And I do mind.” Gerard took his place back and got out his notebook wordlessly. Not that it usually worked, but he tried to ignore Frank to the point of making him leave. 

“Why not? I was really nice to you yesterday. That’s what friends do.” It didn’t work. 

“I didn’t ask you for that.”

“Yeah, well, if I didn’t you’d totally have a black eye right now. You should be thanking me!” 

“I’m not thanking you for anything.” Gerard scribbled in his notebook, perhaps a bit more forceful than usual. 

“Could be a little nicer is all I’m saying” Frank tried to make eye contact with Gerard, but he wouldn’t look up. 

“I’m plenty nice.”

“Really? Cause I came here to give you something and the first thing you did was yell at me, dude.” Frank huffed.

“Give me what?” He looked up at Frank, standing there with his hand shoved in his pockets, and his short brown hair just greeting the tips of his ears in a disorderly fashion. He was looking at Gerard with sincere enough eyes, but Gerard couldn’t trust him still. Plenty of people had used the guise of friendship to pull the wool over his eyes and lure him into some humiliating trap. 

_Come on, d’you really think I’d be friends with you, emo kid? As if! Dude, can you believe he actually fell for that shit? What a loaf!_

“Your headphones. I fixed ‘em.” Frank held up a little coil of wires, neatly wound together.

“How did you do that?” Gerard peered at them suspiciously. No 12-year old could manage that. 11, even. Frank looked a little younger than him. 

“My dad helped me. He’s an engineer. He does lots of stuff with wires. It’s really cool. Here, look.” Frank uncoiled them and thrust them in front of Gerard’s face. “We bandaged it up with electrical tape. He twisted the wires together, and I helped, and then we taped it with this special tape that doesn’t let any of the sparks come out. Here, take ‘em.”

Gerard took them from Franks outstretched hand and eyed the neat little bandage. He _would_ really like to listen to his music today. He was dreading being out without it. It couldn’t do any harm to accept it. They were his, after all, just fixed up. So it’s not like he was accepting any gifts or owed Frank anything in return. He could deal with that. 

“Uhm, thanks…” Gerard managed, not so gracefully.

“No prob!” Frank grinned, obviously happy at this development. “So like, you’ll be my friend now right?”

“What? no.”

“C’mon!” Frank whined. “Why not?”

“Cause, you’re like-“ Gerard started, “-you’re. I don’t know. I don’t _know_ you.”

“Yeah, but you could know me. I’m Frank.”

“I know that.”

“Iero.”

“What’s an iero?”

“That’s my last name!” Frank laughed. “I just moved here from Bayonne. My mom got a new job so we had to move.”

“That’s not too far away.” Gerard said. 

“Are you _kidding_? That’s so far! I haven’t seen any of my friends in weeks! I can’t ever go back, it's like, a zillion hours by bus, my mom won’t drive me, and then you have to go on one of those boats, what are they called? A fairy? It’s like, a whole adventure.” Frank sighed. 

“Oh, wow, that’s a bummer. I’m sorry…” Gerard felt sympathy for the poor starting to creep up, and as much as he tried to push it down, Frank’s pout wouldn’t let up. “Alright. Fine, you can hang around. But we’re _not_ friends, okay?” Gerard looked at him with a steady gaze, his voice getting stern towards the end. 

“Yeah!” Frank’s face lit up, and a huge grin spread across his freckled face. 

Frank jumped up and wedged himself between Gerard and the rock, scrambling to get his feet perched just right.

“Hey—“ Gerard shoved him further away so they weren’t touching. “I didn’t say you could get up here.” He huffed and settled back. 

Frank just peered over at Gerard’s bag and dug through it, looking for his CD case. 

“Hey! You can’t just go through my stuff!”

“Relax! I’m just try’na get some music.” Frank smiled, seemingly immune to Gerard’s harsh eyes. 

He set up the player, much to Gerard’s disdain, and sifted through the artists in his CD case. Gerard felt a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he was being personally violated as this younger boy’s eyes read all his favorite music. His skin crawled. 

“Hmm. The Strokes. Nice. The Misfits, Iron Maiden. Cool, dude. You have good taste.” Frank kept flipping through, and laughed, and Gerard’s stomach dropped for the second time that day, because _This is it, cue the humiliation!_ “You like Bowie? No way, man! No-one likes Bowie!”

“Gerard grabbed the case out of his hands, shoving it in his oversized hoodie pocket. “Yeah, okay? I like Bowie. Will you just leave me alone now? I don’t want to hear it.”

“No, dude, I love Bowie too!” Frank lightly punched him on the arm in a friendly gesture. 

“You do _not_. You’re just trying to make fun of me.”

“Yes, I do!” Frank scoffed. “Why do you think I’m so out to get ya?” 

“Cause, nobody likes Bowie. It’s weird.”

“Who said it was weird?”

“Kids at school. They told me it was weird and said-“ Gerard stopped himself short, his pencil ceasing its scribbling. 

“What’d they say?” Frank’s neck turned a soft shade of pink, his anger rising for his new friend. No, not friend. For the boy with the good music taste. 

“Just, forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does! _Nobody_ insults Ziggy Stardust and lives to tell!” Frank proclaimed, his chest puffing up reactively. Gerard had to laugh at the sight of the small boy getting flustered and ready to fight. He might be small, but Gerard did know he could hold more than his own weight. 

“They said he’s _gay_. (And me, too. But i’m _not_.) I just like Bowie. There’s nothing wrong with Bowie. He’s not puffy.” 

“What?! No way, he isn’t! What freakin’ losers! Gosh.” Frank slumped back against the moss, staring off into space. “Kids are mean, huh?”

“You’re a kid.” Gerard laughed for the first time. This little black haired ball of energy was kind of entertaining in his own way. 

“I never said I wasn’t mean.” Frank smirked. “Only to people who deserve it though. Like those guys yesterday. What turds.”

“Yeah, they were.”

Frank didn’t respond for once. Gerard took his player out of his bag where he stashed it and handed one ear bud too Frank.

“Wait, really?” Frank grinned.

“Just take it before I change my mind.” Gerard tried to hold back a little smile that threatened his lips, and pressed play on _Black Flag_. “You like these guys?”

“Heck yeah! Damaged is my jam.” Frank smiled. 

“Sweet.” Gerard agreed. He went back to his drawing, and the two sat quietly for the better part of the day, switching between different artists, and bobbing their heads gently to the music. Gerard even let Frank choose a few songs even with the uneasy feeling that came with him looking through his CDs. Occasionally they’d catch each other’s eye and share a knowing grin, the kind that came with mutual fascination. Gerard decided it wasn’t such a bad way to spend a day. Frank, yeah, he was tolerable.


	3. Comics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Gerard hang out

Frank turned up the next day, too. And the next. He turned up every day for the next few weeks and the two began to form a friendship, whether Gerard would acknowledge it or not. And he did, eventually. Most days would consist of the two boys sitting around and listening to Gerard’s music. Some days Frank would bring a CD from his own collection at home. He started keeping them in Gerard’s case, claiming the back section for himself. Gerard didn’t mind. I mean, he minded, but he let it go. Some of Frank’s music wasn’t half bad, and he could listen to it at home too. 

One day they even decided to leave the rock. 

“What do you want to do today?” Frank asked, looking straight up at the sky, watching the clouds meander by. 

“Draw, I guess.” Gerard said, not looking up from his sketchpad. “Why?”

“Let’s go somewhere!” Frank smiled, bringing his gaze down to Gerard. 

“Where?” Gerard said, cocking his head, and meeting Frank’s eyes. 

“Anywhere.” It was as simple as that. 

They ended up at a little comic book shop that drew them in with loud punk music playing somewhere in the back, hundreds of funky looking posters plastered in every direction all over the walls, and the distinct smell of old books. It seemed like a slice of heaven snuck away beneath a mountain of shit. They _loved_ it. 

“Wow, look at this!” Frank said, beaming. 

Gerard’s eyes traced over the walls, catching and hanging on certain pictures, then roaming over to another and basking in it too. 

“I want to do that.”

Frank turned his head to his friend. “Do what?”

“Draw. Like _that._ ” He pointed up at a comic style poster of a woman with large spiked purple hair, a janky yellow lightning bolt coursing through it, and toting a massive steel machine gun on her back. The scene behind her was a black and white contrast that was contained in a thick black outlined circle, which spiked out at certain spots, giving the effect of rubble and shrapnel shooting out.

“That’s freaking cool. It’s like, 3-D.” 

“Yeah, it looks like it’s gonna pop right off of there!” Gerard said, his mouth still gaping. 

“It's called _’dimension_ ’” A man with small rounded glasses and a thick black beard said from behind. 

The two young boys spun around, caught off guard. They didn’t know anyone was listening in. 

“Dimension?” Gerard asked. 

“Like, when you go to another world?” Frank tilted his head to the side, eying up the man. 

“No, no. Although, yes, dimensions can be other worlds. This type of dimension is a technique used to make things look far away or close up. It makes the picture look like it’s bigger than it is. It makes the rocks in that one look like they’re flying real far.”

“So it makes your picture not just flat?” Gerard asked, looking at the poster. 

“Exactly.” The man smiled. “You’ve got it.”

“Gerard draws a lot.” Frank chimed in. “I bet you could draw dimension, Gerard.” 

Gerard looked over at Frank and adjusted the strap on his backpack subconsciously, thinking about his notebook inside. 

“Maybe.”

“I have some books in the back on drawing comics if you’re interested.” The man said as he walked off to the right, taking a seat behind the front counter. “They’re in isle 13.”

Gerard tried to suppress a dumb smile but he couldn’t hold it back and gave the man a toothy grin. He shook his head in acknowledgment and headed for the back with Frank on his toes. 

“Wow, look, ‘How To Draw Almost Anything: DC Universe’!” Frank waved around a book before putting in down and running his fingers over the spines of the hundreds of others lining the shelves. He murmured quietly, reading off titles. _“How to sketch weapons… How to draw hands… The complete guide to posture… Shading and light tricks 101…”_

“There’s like, one of _everything_ here, Frank!” Gerard grinned, looking at the book his friend was waving around. “I’m gonna learn all of this one day.” 

Gerard leafed through a few books, his eyes going wide as he saw the progression of drawings, watching them unfold and turn into gorgeous works of art. He admired the delicate line work, and the bold jarring lines as well. They made his head spin with delight. 

“Are you gonna get one?” Frank asked, his nose practically pressed up against a shelf. 

“I wish. I don’t have any money.” Gerard shrugged. 

“Oh, man, that blows!” 

“You have money?” Gerard asked, looking at him funny. 

“What? No. I’m a kid.”

“Then why’d you ask? I’m a kid too.”

“Yeah, true. I didn’t think about that.” Frank laughed. 

Gerard shook his head and laughed too. 

They walked around the store, eventually losing interest in the drawing books and flitted through the thousands of comics littering the shelves. They flipped through so many issues, showing each other cool ones with excited faces. Frank kept gravitating towards the spider-man universe comics while Gerard couldn’t stick to one, but instead leafed through issue after issue of everything. 

They’d been in the store for a few hours, and eventually Frank’s stomach started growling audibly, even above the punk tunes playing in the back, and they decided to take a break and get something to eat. They headed out of the store and thanked the man behind the desk before leaving. He smiled back and gave them a wave. 

Outside, they kept walking until they hit a bench and plopped down on it. Frank grabbed snacks from his bag and handed Gerard his share. He started packing lunch for the both of them when he realized Gerard often ate the same three things everyday, and it hardly looked like enough. He made sure to always pack his backpack full of lots of fruits and chips and granola bars. And sandwiches. A peanut butter and jelly for himself and a peanut butter and fluff for Gerard. He figured out that the long haired kid adored fluff one day when he let him have a bite of his sandwich and he nearly fell over in bliss. A few days later Frank showed up with an entire sandwich of peanut butter and fluff just for Gerard, and he kept doing it ever since. 

They ate in silence. The two hungry boys stuffed their faces and sucked down two entire bottles of gatorade in record time, leaving no room for words. Frank let out a deafening burp at the end causing Gerard to giggle and then promptly turn red. 

“You giggled!” Frank said, grabbing his sides and laughing hard. 

“I, I, nu-uh!”

“You did! Hahaha!” Frank’s smile was so wide that his cheeks hurt.

“Yeah, well, only cause you’re gross!” Gerard stammered. 

Frank had to wind down with the laughing before he could speak again. “I never saw a boy giggle before.”

“Boys giggle!” Gerard frowned. 

“Nu-uh.” 

Gerard squinted at Frank, and he quickly made up his mind before he could think twice, launching at the smaller boy and poking his sides, tickling him relentlessly. Frank squirmed under him, once again in a laughing fit, but this time much more out of breath, gasping for air, and delirious with over-sensation. Gerard kept tickling, a grin spread over his own face, trying not to laugh, and moved his fingers until Frank starting breaking down into giggling fits. Gerard laughed out in triumph and leaned back, leaving Frank slumped over the side of the bench near falling, and grinned. “What, are you some kinda girl, then? That was an awful lot of _giggling_.” 

“I—“ _wheeze_ “Yo-you can’t ju—“ _wheeze_ ”That’s not—“ _wheeze_ “Gerar—“ 

“Thought so.”

Frank shot him a mock glare and stuck out his tongue. “You haven’t heard” _wheeze_ “the last of me!” _wheeze_

They stayed out until sundown before parting. Gerard lingered for a while in the park before deciding to go home, only leaving because he didn’t know who was going to come around in the dark at night. Jersey wasn’t the best place for being alone at night. He crept into his house, all the lights off, and took the memorized steps down to his room where he could turn on his bedside lamp and finally see. His bed had notebooks strewn all over it, and he tossed them down onto the floor, leaving the cleaning up until the morning. His room already looked like a tornado hit it; a few notebooks wouldn’t hurt. 

He fell asleep thinking about comics, delicious fluff, and what him and Frank would do tomorrow. For the first time in quite a while, he fell asleep with a smile.


	4. Family Dinner 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard goes to Frank's house for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are my own; enjoy! And Merry Christmas! :)

A week later Frank turned up at the park with a sheepish look and Gerard didn’t know what to make of it. He was holding something behind his back. Gerard eyed him up and down. He was rocking on his heels and giddy with nervous excitement.

“What do you have there?” Gerard asked.

Frank brought out a book from behind him, and smiled unabashedly. It was one of the ones they looked at before in the comic book shop. 

“Holy crap. Where’d you get that?” 

He got it from his mother, Frank had told him. Frank’s mom was happy that he was making new friends and bought the book for the dark haired boy. Gerard could hardly accept such a gift. It wasn’t even his birthday! Or Christmas, or, anything! It was just, like, Tuesday?

Frank was persistent though. He slapped it down on the bench and kept pushing toward Gerard when he pushed it away. It was a gift, dang it! After some time, Gerard picked it up and leafed through it, admiring all the drawings. His smile grew wide and he thanked Frank, though _he really should have bought this just for him, really!_

Frank just smiled and assured him it was no big deal. 

“Although…” Frank said. 

“Although?”

“Although, my mom kinda wants to, like, meet you? Ifthatsokay.” 

Gerard looked up quickly. “She... wants to meet me? Your mom? Why?”

Frank shrugged. “Dunno. Cause you’re my friend and she’s really annoying.” 

“Oh.” 

“She wanted me to invite you over for dinner. You don’t have to, though…”

“At your _house_?” 

“Well, yeah.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Meeting… your mom.”

“And my dad, too, probably.”

Gerard scratched the back of his head even though it wasn’t very itchy.

“Does she not like me?”

“What?” Frank cocked his head to the side. “Why would you say that? She hasn’t even met you. And she, like, bought you a book.”

“I don’t know. Just cause. Moms, y’know…” 

“No, dude. Don’t worry. She’ll like you.”

Gerard hesitated. “Okay.”

“You’ll come…?” Frank asked. 

Gerard nodded. And gulped. What was he going to do? They’d bought him a book, he couldn’t refuse now! Even though as soon as he showed up they were totally going to take one look at him and send him packing. Gosh. He was pale a ghost, with long unruly black hair, and constantly decked out in baggy black clothes. They were going to _hate_ him. Gerard groaned. 

“Cool!” Frank smiled. “I mean, my parents are totally lame, but I can show you my new house ’n stuff.” 

. . . 

Dinner time came way too fast for Gerard. Like, entirely too fast. Before he could even blink his eyes he was following Frank home from the park and gripping his backpack straps hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He doesn’t even know _why_ he’s doing that, really. Meeting Franks family wasn’t going to be some horrible disaster or anything. They were just normal people. And they gave birth to Frank, who turned out to be pretty cool, so it stands to reason that they can’t be _that_ bad. But the prospect of parents didn’t sit well with Gerard in this pit on his stomach. His own father was rarely home, and when he was, Gerard wished he wasn’t, and his mother, well, his mother left a lot to be desired in terms of parental guidance. He really didn’t know what to expect from a whole ‘nother set of parents. And that made him hold onto his pack for dear life; cue the white knuckles. 

Frank's house was big. And not like, ‘wow, that’s a big ‘ol house’, like ‘holy crap. You live in _that?_ ’. It was in a nice neighborhood, not off a main road like Gerard’s, and it was set back behind a long driveway and a big tangle of trees. The house was mostly made of bricks and it had a certain flare to it, like it was from some fancy century that Gerard probably learned about in history class. _Character_ , was what it had, he thought. There were vines that ran up along the sides and half of the front of the house, too. He liked it. (He didn’t like his own house. It was ranch style and the yellow paint was chipping in more places than it wasn’t.) 

“You live here?” He asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Wow…”

Frank shrugged. At the door a man and a woman greeted them and made them take their shoes off before they could come inside. The woman said her name was Mrs. Iero, but Gerard could call her Linda. This made Gerard feel nervous, and he didn’t want to call her Linda. She was an adult, and saying an adult’s name was wrong. He was a kid. Kids don’t call adults by their first names. No. 

“It’s, um, nice to meet you, Mrs. Iero, Mr. Iero.” Gerard stuck out his hand for a handshake.

Mrs. Iero gave him a warm smile and shook his hand gingerly. He liked her instantly. He shook Mr. Iero’s hand which was solid and crushing his own, but Mr. Iero’s face was warm and friendly and that made it kind of okay. 

“Frank, you didn’t tell me your new friend has such good manners!” Mrs. Iero said with a warm smile, the kind that makes your eyes crinkle.

Frank ignored that comment, but Gerard blushed and shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do with himself. 

“T-thanks.” he said, keeping his eyes on her as she went into the kitchen. 

“Boys, can you come help set the table? Frank, get drinks for everyone. Your father and I will have water. Gerard, honey, what would you like to drink? We have milk, iced tea, and soda.”

Frank groaned, but trudged over to the cabinet to get out cups. 

He came into the kitchen too. “Just water, please.” 

“Gerard, could you put out the utensils? They’re over here in this drawer” She pointed to her left. 

Gerard looked at her wide eyed but followed her instruction and began putting forks and knives out on the table. It looked like a fancy dinner like at restaurants, or in movies. They kind where the whole family gets together and talks and laughs and shares about their days. 

Frank finished his job, and looked over to his mother. “Okay, I’m done, can I go now?”

“Just put out some napkins first, honey, then you can go play with Gerard. Dinner will be ready in a half hour.” 

Frank rolled his eyes and grabbed the napkins. He looked over at Gerard and whispered, “I hate setting the table. I have so many chores.”

Gerard shrugged. He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t have any. In fact, he’d never set a table before. 

Mr. Iero cleared his throat and gave Frank a look from the couch. Frank blushed. Gerard figured that Frank didn’t know his dad was listening. 

“They develop good character, Frank.” Mr. Iero said sternly.

. . . 

Frank dragged him up the stairs next, and into the room on the left. Frank’s room. There were band posters tacked up on the walls. One for _Pink Floyd_ , _Black Flag_ , and _Mineral_ , as well as a few others. The walls were still white, Frank said, because he just moved in, but he wanted to paint them black or red, or maybe gray. He had a desk set up in the corner and a guitar on a stand near the wall. There was a bookshelf filled with books, and a small tv facing opposite his bed with a NES game console hooked up. 

“This… this is all yours?” Gerard asked. 

“Yeah, this is my room.” Frank said, hopping onto the bed. It had a black and gray striped comforter. 

“This tv is yours?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Wow.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Cause your house is like, really awesome. I didn’t know you were rich.”

“I’m not rich?” Frank furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, you’re totally rich.” Gerard said matter-of-factly. 

“Um. Do you wanna see my CD collection?”

Gerard’s face lit up. “Heck yeah.”

There were a lot of CDs. Like, more than there were in a store. Well, maybe not that many, but there were more than Gerard could image one person, one _kid_ , could own. No wonder Frank let him take home his CDs and kept a few in his case. All of Gerard’s CDs were in that case, and it didn’t even fill it up halfway. He had seven CDs. There was _Reload by Metallica_ , _Damaged by Black Flag_ , _Hatful of Hollow by The Smiths_ , _The Wall by Pink Floyd_ , _Bad Moon Rising by Sonic Youth_ , _Scary Monsters by David Bowie_ , and _13 by Black Sabbath_. Frank, on the other hand, had like, every single album ever. 

Gerard’s smile threatened to pop off his face. 

“What do you wanna listen to?” Frank asked. He was looking at Gerard with a big smile, and Gerard couldn’t help but feel like keeping him as a friend was a good idea. Maybe even his best idea. 

“Mmh, I don’t know. Do you have _Nothing Ever Changes?_

“Totally!”

Frank switched it on and got Gerard to lay back on the bed with him. He had a poster tacked up on the ceiling over his bed and they stared at it while drinking in the voice of Billy Corgan blaring from the speaker. The poster read ‘The Evil Dead’ in big blocky letters, and depicted a woman clawing her way out of a grave, with a diseased looking zombie grabbing her throat and pulling her back under. Gerard thought it was gross. 

“That’s gross.” 

Frank laughed. He turned his head to face Gerard, and saw his friend’s expression being something of repulsion. “What, you doing like horror flicks? They’re like, the best!” 

Gerard turned to face him too. They were closer than they’d ever been before, but neither seemed to notice. “No. God, no. They freak me out.” he shivered, thinking about last time Mikey convinced him to watch a horror movie. It was called ‘Violent Shit’ and it was exactly as the title suggested: extremely violent (and as Gerard thought: shit).

 _Mikey, what the hell?! TURN IT OFF! MIKEY!_  
_Calm down, Gee! It’s just a movie! It’s not real!_  
_Di-did he just rip her— oh MY GOD. TURN IT OFF. MIKEY, THERE’S SO MUCH BLOOD! TURN IT OFF!_

No. Nope. He did _not_ like horror movies. 

“You probably just didn’t see the good ones. You have to know which ones to watch. I’ll show you sometime.”

Gerard was about to answer when Mrs. Iero’s light voice came trailing up the stairs telling them that was time for dinner. 

_Thank god_ , he thought.


	5. Family Dinner 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the dinner

Downstairs, the food smelled delicious. Ridiculously delicious. Even better than the peanut butter and fluff sandwiches that Frank made him. There was a big bowl of spaghetti in red sauce that gave off a heavenly aroma that was thick in the air, and Gerard didn’t know if he wanted to faint or swallow the entire bowl whole. There were meatballs, roasted garlic and tomatoes with mozzarella cheese, and a whole entire mouth-watering loaf of garlic bread. There was no time for fainting. He was definitely going to inhale the entire table. 

“Mrs. Iero, you _made_ this? It’s, it’s—” He asked, wide eyed, and unable to finish his thought. 

“Of course! I hope you like Italian, Gerard, we have it a lot here.” She smiled at him, and passed him the bowl of spaghetti. “Guests are served first; here you go, honey.”

“I do. I— I love it. It looks amazing. Thank you so much, Mrs. Iero. And Mr. Iero” 

“Oh, no need to thank me! Frank, your new friend is so sweet.” She smiled at her son who looked thoroughly embarrassed. 

Frank leaned over close to Gerard’s side. “You don’t need to say all that, you know.”

Gerard looked at him curiously. “Why not? I meant it.”

Frank gave him a look, but Gerard couldn’t understand what he meant by it. 

“It’s just dinner?” Frank said like it was a question. 

Gerard shrugged and turned his attention towards his plate which was filling up with more food than he’d seen all week. He scarfed it down sloppily. He twirled the spaghetti around on his fork and slurped it down in big gulps. He devoured four meatballs and, _yes, please, thank you_ , gobbled down three more when Mrs. Iero offered. 

His belly felt a little bit too full by the end of it, but that was a small price to pay. He immediately started clearing off the table and bringing it to the sink. Frank gave him an exasperated look, like ‘what are you doing?’, or something like that, but Gerard just had the best dinner of his life, and of course he was going to help clean up. Especially because Mrs. Iero was giving a big appreciative smile and telling him that he was a very nice boy. Frank could roll his eyes all he wanted. 

“Okay, go on, you too, you’ve helped enough.” She smiled sweetly, and shooed them off. 

“Frank, your parents are _so_ nice.”

“What? They’re okay. They’re kind of annoying. My mom never stops bossing me around.” Frank said. 

“So what?” Gerard said. “I wouldn’t mind chores.”

“I mean, whatever, dude.” Frank said, dropping the conversation, and pulling him back upstairs. 

. . . 

It was starting to get dark outside when Frank looked over at his friend. Gerard just finished taking a turn playing Super Mario Bros on Frank’s NES, which was really, really awesome. He asked Gerard if he wanted to sleep over, and Gerard was glad he didn’t have to go home. He said yes immediately. Even the fact that he had never _actually had_ a sleep over before didn’t make him hesitate. Frank’s house was amazing and he never wanted to leave. 

“Wait here while I go ask my mom, okay?”

“Okay.” Gerard picked up the controller again and decided that if Frank was leaving, he could take a double turn. 

When he got back he told him that his mom said it was okay, and that Gerard could use the phone downstairs to call his mom. 

“What?” he croaked. 

“To call your mom. To let her know you’re staying over.”

“I don’t have to.” he said. He really didn’t want to call his mom. 

“My mom’s downstairs waiting for you, though?” 

Gerard groaned inwardly and headed downstairs. He thanked Mrs. Iero and waited until she left the kitchen before he just looked at the phone receiver. Was he actually going to call his mother? What would he even say to her? What would she say to _him_? He stayed stalled there for a good minute looking at the lit up buttons and then pretended to press in his home number, just in case Mrs. Iero was watching. He cleared his throat audibly, and pretended like someone picked up. His heart was beating fast in his chest. He felt nervous, like anyone could look right through him and know exactly what he was up to. _Hello?_ he said, to the empty phone, _Hi Mom, I’m staying at Franks tonight. Okay, bye._ And that was that. It sounded a little dry, but Gerard was kind of proud of his delivery and thought it maybe sounded pretty convincing. He hung the receiver back up on the wall and told Mrs. Iero, even though he felt _very guilty_ lying to her, that his mom said it was okay. She smiled and told him to have fun. He stomach twisted in a knot, but he thanked her and ran back upstairs to Frank and his cool room with the NES console. 

They spent a couple hours taking turns and devouring level after level of golden coins and magic mushrooms. But after a while, even that couldn’t hold their attention. Gerard rifled through his backpack and pulled out the book that Frank, or rather Mrs. Iero, had bought for him. _How To Draw Almost Anything: DC Universe_. He smiled down at it. Just the sight of it made him feel giddy, like there were tiny stars in his belly warming him up. Someone got him a gift. Someone bought him something. Someone was thinking about him. It was already one of the best things he owned. 

Frank peered over his shoulder and with a grin went and rummaged through his desk, coming back with a stack of white paper, and a handful of assorted pens and pencils. Gerard beamed back at him. 

Frank went through 10 pages quickly. Very quickly. What flowed through him were stick figures, misshapen bugs and bats and creepy things (he had drawn one on accident and after Gerard let out a small yelp, he made it his mission to gross the ever-loving bejesus out of him), as well as several failed attempts at the lessons in the book, through those were quickly forgotten about. 

Gerard was on his second page. The first was a decent attempt at a bat man; he got the overall shape and proportion right, but he couldn’t quite nail the finer details like the slope of the shoulders, or the specific muscles that needed definition. His second was Superman, much to the same effect. He scribbled fiercely onto the page, and poured his heart out into each and every line. His tongue poked out shyly from between his teeth as he concentrated, and Frank laughed in delight whenever he looked over at him. 

“You should draw a new one. Like, your _own_ superhero. Wouldn’t that be cool?!” Frank nudged Gerard with the eraser end of his pencil. 

“Like, make one up? I… don’t know how.” 

“What do you mean, you dunno know how? You just do it! He can be anything. There’s like, no wrong answer.” 

“But what if I can’t think of anything?” Gerard frowned. “I’m not good at that.”

Frank deliberated for a minute before he started scribbling on his 12th sheet of paper, which was also littered with spiders and centipedes with too many legs. Gerard peered over. He was writing a list of things that he supposed were for his new superhero.

“ _Super speed… immortality… super strength… Electric currents… Super jumps…_ ” He said out loud. 

Frank looked back. “Yeah. I’ll help you, okay? I can do the thinking of stuff part.”

“He sounds like a total meat head.” Gerard furrowed his eyebrows. “What about like, invisibility?”

“Invisibility? Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“And… forcefields. And regeneration.” 

“Immortality is basically the same thing as regeneration.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Gerard said. “What should his name be?”

“I dunno. Firebird. The Dark Angel. Captain Atomic. The Golden Dagger.”

“Dark Angel! Yes. Definitely.” 

Gerard sketched out a blocky first draft of a man with a big frame and an angry scowl. He had on large combat boots, all back clothes, and a laser strapped to his back. His long hair hung down to his shoulders in back wisps, just like Gerard’s. 

“Give him fingerless gloves! Those are bad-ass.”

Gerard nodded and drew them in. “I don’t know, Frank, it doesn’t look very good. Maybe I should stick to the book. I suck at this.” 

“What? No way! It looks totally awesome! You’re _so_ good at that, Gee.” Frank nudged him on the arm. 

Gerard blushed. First of all. _Gee?_ When did that happen? And second of all, no way was he good at this. It looked like hot garbage! Frank was out of his ever-loving mind if he thought that was good. On the other hand, Frank always looks so sincere and Gerard could tell that the boy was so excited and clearly not trying to lie to him. He shrugged his shoulders and ducked his head. “Yeah, I mean, I guess. It’s, like, alright?”

“I think he should have a mas—“

Just then the door opened and Mrs. Iero was at the other end. She let him and Frank know that it was time for bed (was that a rule here?), and that they could brush their teeth and turn off the music and games. Frank gave an exasperated sigh, and put up a good fight, arguing with his mother, but ultimately stocked out of the room to get ready. Frank gave Gerard a new unopened toothbrush and let him change into one of his teeshirts and basketball shorts. They were just the tiniest bit too short for Gerard’s longer legs and it made him feel weirdly big. After Mrs. Iero retired to her room, Frank grabbed the picture of The Dark Angel off the floor and crawled up into bed, leaving the rest of the mess on the floor. Gerard hopped up and laid down next him.

“Hold on—!” Frank’s eyes lit up and he hopped down to the floor, scurrying to his closet. When he got back in bed, he flung the sheet up and hurried underneath it. “C’mon, Gee!”

Gerard complied. He fumbled around in the dark, bumping into Frank’s shoulder, _Oof. Ah— Sorry—!_ before the space was illuminated and he could see frank smiling beside him with a flashlight. 

“Welcome to dreamland!” Frank giggled. (And really, didn’t he just say that boys didn’t giggle, like, just _this morning_?)

“Dreamland?” Gerard laughed. 

“Yea. The in-between place that isn’t day or night. Once you get under the blanket, time doesn’t matter, and neither does anything else. Or it’s at least a good place to stay up all night and avoid going to bed.” Frank grinned. “Mom always tells me to go to bed but she can’t see the light in here from the door. I can read or whatever.” 

“Shouldn’t it be called awake-land? Or like, sleepless-land? You don’t dream in here. It’s not dreamland.” Gerard said. 

“I don’t care. It’s _dreamland_. It doesn’t have to make sense.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. Dreamland. He had to admit, it had a nice ring to it. And it was cozy under the blanket. And the soft light was nice. And Frank’s face glowing overtop of it made him feel happy. 

Next to him, Frank was still holding The Dark Angel in his other hand and looking at it intently. His face was contorted with shadows from the flashlight. 

“He needs a story.”


	6. The Dark Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens. Then more stuff. Then, even more!

“Where do we start?” Gerard asked. 

“Well… at the beginning.”

“So, like, once upon a time?”

Frank laughed. “No! Not like a fairy tale. Like... um. Y’know, something _cool_. I dunno.”

“Like... In a far away place... an angel was born of fire and flames?”

“Gee. Did you just think that up?” Frank said, his mouth hanging open. 

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard blushed.

“That was _awesome_!!!”

Gerard gave him a big toothy smile. “I, uh... What next?”

Frank looked down at the drawing as he talked. “Um, The Dark Angel was born of fire and of flames… and he lived out his life down under the earth suffering unspeakable pain. The flames licked him endlessly leaving burns that never healed all over his body.”

Gerard scooted closer to Frank to see the picture more clearly, and he picked up where Frank left off. “…When TDA reached his old age, he thanked his gods because his time was almost up in the fire. But he passed 99 into 100 and death never came to take him away. He dreamt of the scepter each night of his 100th year and when he reached 101, he lost his hope. He knew death wasn’t coming for him…”

Franked grinned. “…TDA endured nine more years in the flames, reaching 110, and the resentment for his gods grew stronger and stronger until he could no longer bear it a second more…”

“…TDA reached into a pool of molten fire at his feet and drew out a handful of the searing liquid. He laid it down at his feet where it glowed red, then orange, and yellow, into brown, and then a dark black. It laid cooled on the ground...”

“...Over and over, he brought the liquid fire out onto the ground and laid it there to die. He labored over the task, and he didn’t complain, not even a word, as his fingers burnt away and left only bone in their wake. TDA looked at his bone hands and he felt anger for those who drove him to this…”

“...When there was enough cold fire at his feet, TDA, still being licked by the flames, began molding and sculpting the black mounds into two long rods. He used his skeleton’ed hands to carve the cooled magma next into small, flat scales, over and over and over...”

“...When TDA had well over five hundred of the flat scales he welded them together using the very flames that tortured him. Of the scales, and the rods, and the fire, TDA crafted two magnificent wings. They were born of fire and flame, just like him...”

Gerard smiled when Frank used his line again, and continued, feeling giddy at how well they were feeding off each other’s ideas. He felt in sync with Frank. Maybe it was dreamland doing that? “...TDA took his enormous new wings and dipped the ends into the magma lake before pressing them into his shoulder blades, forcing them through the thickened, scarred skin, and down to his bone. When the lava cooled, he felt the weight of the wings secured strongly to his back, and he knew it was time to leave the fiery place below the earth…”

“Gee, you gotta add wings tomorrow.” 

“I know! He’s going to look so _cool_.”

“TDA is like a real superhero now. I can’t believe we made him.”

“I think it’s dreamland.” Gerard looked at him with innocent eyes. (Eyes full of wonder) 

Frank looked back with the same kind. “I _told you_ dreamland is special!”

“I believe you.” Gerard nodded like he was so sure about it. “I’m getting really tired though... I’m gonna lay down.”

Gerard laid back, and dreamland looked so much bigger from down near the pillow. Frank’s head was supporting the sheet, and the flashlight illuminated the space with a soft yellow light. Frank was still looking down at the picture with a small smile. 

“Me too. I’m just gonna put my head down for a little bit.” Frank said, laying down the picture, and scooting up towards the pillow where Gerard was. He still had the flashlight in his hands when he laid down, shining it up at his face. The sheet only left the space between their heads on which it was supported up, like the tiniest tent in the world.

Gerard looked at Frank with heavy eyes. He could feel the stars in his belly burning bright and making him warm and content. It felt so nice to have a friend. His eyes fluttered shut, once, twice, three times, before they didn’t open again. Soon he slipped into darkness, leaving the image of Frank’s half-lidded hazel eyes, tousled up brown hair, and soft smile behind. 

. . . 

They opened to the same thing. Frank looked so peaceful sleeping beside him. Sure, he was drooling a little bit on the pillow, and for that Gerard laughed a little bit, but he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. A little smile was playing on his lips. Gerard wondered what he was dreaming about. 

He slipped out of the bed, and realized that he had to go to the bathroom, like, _now_. So Gerard left Frank’s room and aimlessly started down the hall. He opened three doors before he found the bathroom. A small closet, an empty room, and the laundry room. The bathroom was the last door on the right side of the hallway, and Gerard could hardly wait before rushing in emptying his bladder. 

He washed his hands and brushed his teeth. Then Gerard washed his face with cold water and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes. His black hair was in total disarray, sticking up at unnatural angles. He tried to comb his hair through with his fingers, but it didn’t help too much, so he gave up and went to go back to Frank’s room. He doubted anyone would care about his bedhead. 

In the hall, Mrs. Iero appeared from one of the doors to the left, and when she spotted Gerard, her face lit up, and a smile formed on her lips. It made Gerard’s heart flutter momentarily. 

“Gerard! You’re up early.” She said. 

“Mmh. Yeah, I uh, just woke up… What time is it?” 

“It’s only 6am.” She said. “It’s nice to have someone else up at this hour. Frank is definitely not an early bird. He’ll sleep till noon if I let him.” 

Gerard didn’t want to tell her that he usually woke up late too. She was looking at him with such pretty big eyes that crinkled when she smiled, and he wanted her to like him so, _so_ badly. He just nodded and smiled. 

“Do you want to help me with breakfast?” She asked. 

“Help? I don’t know… I don’t know how to cook!” Gerard exclaimed. He felt nervous. His stomach twisted. 

She laughed lightly. “That’s okay, dear! It’s not hard. We’ll do it together.” 

And how could he resist that?

. . . 

It turned out to be fun! And Gerard could do a lot more things than he thought. Mrs. Iero taught him how to crack an egg without getting any shells into the bowl. He was very proud of himself after he got it, and only on his third try. Mrs. Iero taught him how to apply spray to a pan so food wouldn’t stick to it at the end, whisk eggs, and when the best time to flip a pancake was. She also taught him how to use measuring cups and which ones were needed for the recipe. Cooking was actually pretty enjoyable. At least it was with Mrs. Iero there. 

At the end they made a wonderful batch of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and bacon. It smelled delicious. Gerard wanted to tuck into it right away, even forgetting about his sleeping friend upstairs. Mrs. Iero, on the other hand, made a point of having Gerard go to wake Frank up. 

It’s one thing to have a sleep over, wake up before your friend whose house you’re at, and lay there for a few hours in agonizing boredom. It’s another thing to wake up at your friend’s house and spend hours with his mother having a great time. That was weird. Was Gerard being weird? Did he overstep a boundary? Gerard had never had a sleepover before; he didn’t know the rules. 

“Frank…” Gerard shook Frank’s shoulder tentatively. 

“mmmh”

“Frank, wake up.” 

The sleeping boy thrashed around a bit and turned onto his other side. This made Gerard shake his shoulder a bit and say his name a bit louder. Frank only grunted. 

“Frank!” Gerard shook his shoulders and got all up in his face, yelling his name. 

“—Ah! Gee!” 

That wasn’t exactly what he was going for, but it worked. 

“Uh, Frank, it’s morning.” 

“Oh… I’m tired. ‘m going back to sleep.” 

“We made breakfast.”

Frank’s face perked up and he shot up an eyebrow. “Pancakes?”

A grin broke out across Gerard’s face. “Chocolate chip pancakes!” 

“What?! You should have said so! Let’s go!” And with that Frank leapt off the bed. A crinkling beneath the covers made Frank look back and frown. “Oh, noo!” 

Frank reached under the comforter and pulled a crumpled up paper. 

“Gee— I’m so sorry! I fell asleep on TDA! Oh my gosh, I _ruined_ him!” He clutched the paper in his hands. 

Gerard looked down and took it from him. “It’s fine!” He laughed. “I can make a new one.”

“No, but I like _this_ one. He’s... special.” Frank furrows his brows. 

“We can press it in a book and make it flat again.” Gerard said. “Sometimes I do that at home.” 

“I dunno...” Frank looked like he was going to cry. Gerard’s heart sped up. _Please don’t cry._ He didn’t know how to deal with someone crying. 

“It’s okay, Frankie!” Gerard’s one eyebrows raised in surprise as the nickname rolled off his tongue, though Frank seemed too preoccupied to notice. “It’s okay! I’ll fix him! And make another! I’ll make a hundred!” 

Frank looked up with sparkling eyes. “You can fix ‘em?” 

“Yeah, Frankie. I can.” Gerard smiled. “Let’s go get pancakes first though.” 

. . . 

Frank didn’t seem to care that Gerard spent time with his mother, though he didn’t find it a bit weird, and made a point to tell him so. But he wasn’t mad, so there was that. Gerard wouldn’t even have cared if he was mad, in fact, because he was too swept up in how utterly different mornings were in the Iero household. There were greetings from parents, warm food, and lots and lots of small talk. Gerard blabbered on so much that his jaw started hurting. He told Mr. Iero all about school when he asked, including which classes were his favorite and which he would be taking when the school year started up again. He told him all about fractions and decimals, and numbers that were actually negative, like, less than a number. Mr. Iero smiled and nodded like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

By afternoon, the boys found themselves back up in Frank’s room drawing and talking and playing video games. It went like that for most of the summer. Gerard would sleep over at Frank’s house, and they would get lost in their own private fantasy land of superheroes and far off places. Gerard never invited Frank over to his house. It wasn’t discussed, like a pimple; it was weird to bring up, so they didn’t. It was just Franks house, plain and simple.

They expanded on The Dark Angel, creating his little universe and perfecting his costume down to the tiniest little detail. Gerard wasn’t lying when he told Frank that he’d draw him a hundred more. TDA surfaced on page after page, from a silly scribble to an intricate sketch. Frank had a lot of them tacked up to his bedroom wall, despite the huffing from his mother not to put holes in the house. 

His favorite, though, was pressed between the pages of a thick book, and set squarely away on his bookshelf; the original TDA in all his glory. Frank liked that one the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, ily


	7. I Didn’t Feel like Writing This Chapter but I Did Anyway, so Here Ya Go, It Sucks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhh I don't know, just some BS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys my updates are probably going to be shit and super spaced out for a little while. I'm in the process of buying a townhouse atm so I have my hands full. And I have the flu now. Wah, wah, wahahhhhh

When September inevitably arrived, it meant going back to school, and wasn’t that just the worst? For Gerard, the bullies he knew so well were looming in the back of his head, and for Frank, the pressure of being the new kid was kind of making him nervous. Luckily, they had each other. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Gee.” Frank said, leaning against the porch railing in front of his house. “I’m nervous too. I’m gonna be the new kid. That’s gonna suck.”

“I just really hate it there. Everything sucks. Like, the teachers, the kids, the homework. Why do I have to go?”

Frank made a noncommittal noise because homework actually really did suck. “The teachers can’t be too bad. And I’m sure there’s some cool people there. You go there, and you’re super cool. You’re like, my best friend. So, how bad can it be?” 

Gerard’s eyes light up. “Your best friend? Really?” 

“Yeah! Of _course_.” Frank cheesed. “Who else would it be?”

Gerard shrugged because he felt like it could be a lot of people. Someone back home, maybe. His next door neighbor, the mailman? Anyone would be better than him. “Yeah, well, you’ll see tomorrow. It’s not going to be all that great.” Gerard combed the hair out of his eyes and tucked it neatly behind his ear. 

Frank just smiled dreamily. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

. . . 

Tomorrow came faster than either of them wanted. Waking up at 6 in the morning to catch the 6:45 bus should be some sort of Olympic sport, that’s how difficult it is. 

Gerard got on the bus and sat through 5 stops before Frank climbed on and sat down in the seat next to him. He’d saved it with his backpack, though Gerard suspected that he didn’t need to, because no one usually sat next to him anyway. 

Frank did, though. And he had a big smile plastered on his face, one that wasn’t proportional to the current hour. 

“Hey, Gee!” Frank said, tucking his backpack under the seat. 

“Hey, Frankie.” Gerard mumbled. He wasn’t as chipper. His head was still foggy from sleep and his stomach was growling. 

“You okay, dude?” Frank leaned over so their shoulders were touching and he could get a better look at Gerard’s sulky face. 

Gerard shrugged. He didn’t really feel like explaining himself. He was tired, hungry, and anxious. It was going to be a crap day and he knew it. 

Frank grabbed Gerard’s bag from his lap and dug around in it, searching for something, Gerard didn’t know what. He also didn’t really mind Frank going through his things anymore. He pulled out Gerard’s walkman and grinned to himself before giving him back his backpack and handing him an earbud. 

“At least we can listen to music, right?” Frank was still smiling. And, okay, so maybe that wasn’t the worst idea in the world. 

Gerard gave him a little smile back when he took the bud and Frank had something akin to satisfaction flash across his face. He pressed play and they sat in comfortable silence as the sounds of Metallica filled their ears. 

It took about fifteen minutes to get to school, and Gerard had to say goodbye to Frank since they didn’t have any classes together. Gerard was one grade above him. He was 12 by now he was in 7th grade, and Frank was 11 so he was in 6th. 

He got into his homeroom class and wasn’t pleased with it at all.

“Attention!” The balding teacher snapped. He slapped his ruler down on his desk and the room fell silent. “Eyes up here, everyone. Don’t think that because it’s homeroom that it’s going to be time to slack off. I expect everyone to be on their best behavior. If you want to work on homework, fine. You’ll be studying or sitting quietly at your desk. Got it?” 

A few murmurs popped up around the classroom but no-one challenged him. 

“My name is Mr. Anderson. Not Mr. A., not ‘hey teacher’, not ‘hey you’. It’s Mr. Anderson. Got it?” Mr. Anderson grabbed a stack of papers and handed them to a girl in the first row, telling her to pass them out to the class. “I want you all to write down three things about yourself, I don’t care what they are. We’ll go around the room and share them. Everyone get to work; you have 5 minutes.”

Gerard’s stomach twisted. He didn’t like doing these stupid introductory games at the start of every new school year. He already knew everyone is his grade, so why didn’t he have to hear their name again? He could name every single person in the classroom, first and last. Sometimes these teachers were really thick. 

And, he really, really, really did not want to speak in front of everyone, nor did he know anything interesting to write about himself that wouldn’t make him sound like a total loser. Which, okay, maybe he was, but he didn’t need all of English 247 to know that. 

His insides felt all jittery. His hands were kind of shaking, and the thoughts in his head were running a mile per minute. _What about, I can draw? No, that’s dumb. Or… I can… what can I do? I can’t do anything!_ Gerard groaned internally. _I like music? Yeah, maybe. But what if they think my music is weird? Or too dark, or too rock? How about, what? —What?_

“Gerard? Hello?” Mr. Anderson cut in. “Are you with us?” He was staring Gerard down with a glare that could make a grown man cry for his mother. 

_Oh, god._ His heart was thumping in his chest and he felt all choked up. Eating a bowl full of nails seemed preferable to answering Mr. Anderson at this very moment. 

“Sorry, Mr. Anderson.” Gerard was starting to sweat in the pits of his smashing pumpkins teeshirt. “I, um, I’m Gerard. S-something about me… is, uh, I draw. You know, like, pictures. And I have a brother. And, um, I like comic books, I guess. You know... Batman?” Holy crap. Everyone is looking at him. 

_Way to be the biggest dork in the entire class. Fucking Batman? That’s the best you got?_

A few snickers came from some kids behind him, but that wasn’t that bad, right? Could be worse. No-one outwardly laughed, or called him stupid or threw a sandwich at his face. 

The rest of the row behind him went and they all seemed to have something cool to say, like they went to Ireland over the summer, or their dad has a beach house with a boat, or they have a cute dog that knows all sorts of tricks.

He tried to tune it out for the rest of the period, and the rest of his classes, too, for that matter. He spent a lot of time drifting off in thought and scribbling in the margins of his notebooks. If he could just go through the entire day in a haze, that would be absolutely terrific, education be damned. 

And, you know what else? He didn’t get that twisty nauseous feeling during lunch time, the one where he knew that he’d be standing around on the perimeter scanning the room for someone to sit with, even though he knew deep down that there was no-one he was looking for, since he had no friends. It burned and bubbled and made his stomach feel like it was eating itself alive. Some sort of shame mixed with embarrassment and self-loathing. 

He didn’t get that feeling, not today, and probably not for the rest of the year, he hoped, because that little firecracker of his best friend ran right up to him in the hall and dragged him toward an empty table, one that would become theirs. Just like that, Gerard kind of understood the appeal of lunch. It wasn’t that awkward off-period that left you to fend for yourself, no, it was about goofing off and flinging dried up green beans at your best friend’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> questions, comments, concerns?


	8. School Sux!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard has no fun at school. Boohoo!

Unfortunately for Gerard, PE came right after lunch, and PE was the absolute bane of his existence. Why make a bunch of kids run in circles all day? What kind of a sick joke was that?

Frank said goodbye to Gerard and went off to science class. He went left, and Gerard went right, which honestly just felt wrong. The gymnasium was on the east most section of the building and it took a bit of a trek to get there. In fact, just going to PE should count as part of the class. 

The teacher was alright for the most part, and laid out the rules without being too much of any one thing, like too peppy, or too strict, or too old. Well, maybe Gerard would have preferred too old, because then he wouldn’t have to do as much. But no, the teacher was just kind of there.

His classmates, on the other hand, were the problem. Gerard ducked his head down as soon as he got into the gym, because _ohmygod_ that kid Dave from the park earlier this summer was sitting right smack dab in the center of a group of kids messing around. Plus, there was Corey and Mick, too, who have bullied him since fourth grade.

He groaned and kept to the back of the class, taking a seat on the edge of the court. The teacher was going on about what the agenda was going to consist of for the year, and Gerard heard something about basketball and touch football, but really he was trying not to focus on what was being said. It was the same old speil every time. The class was only an hour long, and he could totally daydream through the entire thing if given the chance. 

With twenty minutes to go, the teacher, who’s name Gerard caught as Mr. Pelissier must have run out of things to say, because he left to go in his office and didn’t come back out, leaving all the kids sitting there on the basketball court with nothing to do.

And you know what they say about idle hands. Gerard really didn’t stand a chance. 

So when Dave looked back and spotted Gerard curled up in a little ball, knees to chest, looking like a frightened bird, he didn’t hold back. He walked right up to him and without saying a word, kicked him right over and sent him down on his side, groaning in pain. 

“Where’s your little friends now, eh, tough guy?” Dave spat.

“What— I—“

“Git’ up, retard. Don’t just lie there, that’s pathetic.”

“Leave me alone, Dave, plea—“ Gerard begged.

“Oh, yea? Why should I leave you alone, eh, freak?” Dave nudged Gerard’s thigh with his sneaker. “You’re freakin’ gross, I can smell you from over there. Do you even shower?”

Gerard could hear laughter coming from the kids over at the front, who he assumed were watching the encounter with wicked smiles on their faces. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to ignore Dave’s insults, which really kind of hurt. Gerard wouldn’t admit it but sometimes he worried that he smelled bad during the weeks that they didn’t have running water. He wouldn’t cry, though. Gerard didn’t know what he would do if he started crying. Besides, he’s had worse. 

“Did your mommy get those clothes outta the donation bin? Is that why you smell like dirty hot dog water?” Dave grinned and snorted, looking back at the others and wiggling his eyebrows. 

One of the girls in the group shouted over at Gerard, something about what kind of sneakers he had on, but Gerard wasn’t listening, and thank God for that, because nothing about that remark was nice, not at all. 

And who cares if Gerard wore beaten up Sketchers that he got from his cousin? They were the only ones he had, so why wouldn’t he wear them? They kept his feet warm, and the rubber soles were mostly intact so when it rained he hardly got any water on his socks. And also, how could he even get new ones if he wanted to? He was only a kid. He had no money. 

Gerard groaned because his ribs were throbbing and Dave was still tapping him with his foot. He brought his hands up to cover his face and pointedly ignored everything until Dave muttered something about a dead horse and went back to the others. 

The bell _finally_ rang after a few minutes and Gerard waited until everyone left before getting up and heading to Mr. Pelissier’s office where he was hunched over a manila folder. 

“Um, M-Mr. Pelissier?”

The man looked up and looked surprised at the kid standing in his doorway. “Yeah?”

“I, um, I was just wondering—“ Gerard shuffled his feet. “Is there any way, I um, I can get out of PE this semester? It’s just that…” 

The look on Mr. Pelissier’s face didn’t look promising. 

“It’s just… maybe I can switch to a different class? ‘Cause the kids in this one, they uh, they’re not very nice. To, uh, me.”

Mr. Pelissier swiveled his chair to face Gerard and settled his hands in his lap, laced together. He sat forward a bit and Gerard braced himself for whatever was going to come out of his mouth. Really, he didn’t even have that good of a read on Mr. Pelissier yet and he didn’t have a clue what he’d say.

“Listen, kid, that’s a shame, really. But there’s nothing that I can do for you.”

Gerard sighed. Suddenly he _did_ feel like crying. There’s nothing like the pointed rejection of an adult to make you feel like a penny facing tails up. 

“But look, it’ll be okay, alright? You’ll make friends. That’s what PE is all about. Sports are about teamwork, and if you never learn how to work on a team, you’ll be missing a pretty important skill.”

Gerard nodded dumbly, and bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep his eyes from leaking. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? You’re going to be late for your next class.”

Gerard left and regretted ever having asked that at all. What was he even expecting?

. . . 

The rest of Gerard’s classes passed pretty quickly, and he was sat outside in the quad waiting for Frank to come out. Normally he’d go straight home and hole himself up in his room, but today he actually had something to look forward to. He realized how much he’d been missing when he couldn’t vent to anyone about his day, or rag on his bullies, or complain about teachers. 

He was scanning the faces walking out of the doors when he saw the smiling face of his brother and his friends. Mikey noticed Gerard looking at him, and, if possible, his smile got even bigger. Mikey waved at him all dramatically, and bounded over, leaving his friends behind. 

“Hey, Gee!” Mikey said.

“Oh, uh, hey Mikey.” Gerard was still trying to keep his eyes on the faces. 

“What’s up, Gee? You’re still around campus? Were you waiting for me? Did you wanna walk home together?” 

Mikey was clutching his back pack and practically vibrating with excitement. 

“I was just, uh, waiting for someone. You can go without me, it’s okay.”

“Who’re you waiting for? I don’t mind waiting!”

“Just a friend.” Gerard looked over at Mikey’s friends hanging back, waiting for him to return. “You should go back to your friends, too.”

Mikey’s smile dropped, and he fidgeted a little, studying Gerard’s face. “Oh. I guess. I mean we’re going to the same place. But yeah, no, I’ll go with my friends, yeah. Sorry.”

“See you later, Mikes.” And with that, Mikey walked back to his group, shoulders slightly hunched, and he shot another glance over at his big brother before leaving him to whatever important things he was doing. 

Gerard didn’t really notice, however. He didn’t hang out with Mikey very much, and he never walked home from school with him anymore. He hadn’t done that for a few years now. Mikey got a little bit too interested in his friends and Gerard hated tagging along with them, so he didn’t. Then it just became common place for Gerard not to wait up for them.

But now Frank was coming out of the double doors and Gerard’s face lit up. He waved over at Frank, who came running over, and the two of them started talking all at once, trying to get out every little detail about their first day. 

“—And then Mrs. Tracey spilled coffee all over this kid Ben and he screa—“

“—We got to use actually microscopes that showed you tiny wiggling living germs—“

“—When Suzy came back from the bathroom she had dirty toilet paper hanging from—“ 

“—Then I said, ‘I like Batman’, oh my god, am I dumb, or—“

“—My history teach totally had a booger hanging from his nose—“

“—And that mean kid from the park was in my PE class—“

“—Wait, WHAT?” Frank shrieked. “That jerk that I punched in the face and broke your headphones?!” 

“Uh, yeah. That one.” Gerard looked down, feeling, almost, like, guilty? Frank’s anger made him feel uncomfortable. 

“Oh my god, Gee!” Frank leap forward into his space and hugged him tight. “I’m so sorry! That sucks!”

“It’s okay… really.” Gerard let Frank hug him even though it kind of made his ribs sting. “He kinda, uh, kicked me today.” 

Frank tried to yank back, but Gerard locked his hands together and kept Frank in the hug. He did not need to see his angry face right now. 

“Hey— Gee! C’mon, let me go—“ 

“No! Not till you promise you’re not going to do anything.”

Frank huffed against Gerard’s shoulder. “I wasn’t going too!

“Yes, you were!”

“Fine! I was! But he deserves it! And he can’t treat you like that, Gee. Nobody messes with my friends.” 

“Just promise me, okay?” Gerard hugged him a little tighter.

“Fine! I promise… I guess.” Frank groaned. “But only because you’re making me, and I might suffocate in here.”

Gerard nodded, satisfied, and let go. “Good.”

“But for the record, he totally deserves an ass whooping.” 

“Maybe. But it’ll just make things worse.” Gerard looked over at Frank’s red face. “I just want him to leave me alone.” He whispered. 

“Aw, Gee. C’mon, let’s go. You wanna go to my house?” Frank asked, slinging his arm around Gerard’s shoulder.

“Mmhm.” 

. . . 

Frank took Gerard home, and they were ushered to the kitchen table by Mrs. Iero who asked them all about school, and then promptly made them take out their homework. Gerard didn’t usually do his homework at home but Mrs. Iero was there breathing down his neck and he actually kind of wanted to impress her, so he did it all. 

Mrs. Iero invited him to stay for dinner and they had tacos which were excellent. But Gerard couldn’t stay over on a school night so when 7pm rolled around, he had to go home. Frank’s bedtime was 8 apparently, something that made Gerard laugh. He could stay up however late he wanted. He never realized how great that was before. 

Gerard helped Frank clean up all the pencils and papers they hand strewn about his floor and said goodbye. His house was only a fifteen minute walk away, and there was still a decent amount of light hanging around in the sky. The lightness of summer nights still haven’t faded quite yet. 

Gerard got home to a quiet house and tossed his backpack by the door. Nobody greeted him home. No happy mother, no well meaning father. His heart panged suddenly for the Iero’s cozy house and he didn’t know what to make of it. He’d been perfectly fine the last 12 years going unnoticed and unbothered. Why on earth did Frank and his family have to go ahead and ruin that for him? Jeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seeing MCR at Newark and I got pit tickets. I don't think that my life could get any better at this point.


	9. The Chapel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter? It's mainly plot for Way fam. Sorry if it isn't super exciting. There's a part 2 coming soon. Hope you guys like it. Prob some spelling errors in there.

Gerard was feeling lonely for the first time in a few months. He’d been pretty preoccupied with his new friend and almost, _almost_ forgot about that aching feeling down deep in his gut. Today it came back full force. 

He started drawing immediately after waking up - not because his fingers ached for it, or because he felt particularly inspired, but because his bad thoughts were creeping up and he wanted to drown them out. Drawing was always a good way to do that, in his experience. 

Yesterday his mother finally left her room and he wished that she hadn’t. She got really mad about the power being off and about the amount of garbage that was littering the house. Gerard and Mikey were complete slobs, she said. Nobody would look after the place while she was sick, she said. Her children were ungrateful and spoiled. Gerard didn’t like when she said things like that. 

It made his stomach upset. Like somebody flushed a toilet in his belly and it all went around, and around, and around. All stinky and spinny and it made him want to throw it all up. That’s how much he hated when she said mean things like that. 

But then she went and cleaned the whole house. She mopped the floors, dusted the tops of the fans, and did all the laundry that was piling up in the hallway. Then she went out and got food and the fridge was finally sporting more than a lonely jar of mayo and some old rotting celery. 

That part was pretty nice. Very nice, actually. Gerard was very happy about that, even if he had to wait until his mom fell asleep to tip toe upstairs and get some. He liked staying up late, anyway. 

He ran into Mikey late the next night while he was planning to snag a couple of yodels and sodas. Seemed like he had the same idea. 

“Gee!” Mikey smiled, making sure to whisper. He padded into the kitchen lightly on his feet and started rummaging through the cupboards. 

Gerard nodded at him. “Hey, Mikes.” He crouched down and pulled out a box of little cakes. “So, …food, huh?”

Mikey gave a little snort and looked over at his brother. "Yeah. It’s like Christmas in here! Man, look at all this stuff— oh no way! Yes, _Cheetos_.”

Mikey grabbed the bag and wrestled it open. “I feel like we never have any anymore. It’s— I mean. Well…” 

Gerard cut him off, because, gosh, this was weird to talk about. “—yeah. It’s awesome. We even got Mountain dew code red. I love that stuff.”

“—mom…” Mikey said, looking unnerved. “Mom… well, I don’t know, y’know?”

Gerard shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Yeah. Mom.” 

“Yeah.” Mikey licked some orange power off his fingers and looked over to the left, not really at anything in particular. “Uh, do you wanna come upstairs ’n play some Tetris?”

“—I’m gonna go back downstairs.” He said, nearly simultaneously. 

“Oh—right, okay.”

“I mean, no I can, totally—“

“No, it’s okay, you can go downstairs. I just thought..." He trailed off. 

“You sure? Cause I can play.” Gerard looked at his younger brother and didn’t really want to disappoint him, but at the same time he really just wanted to go back to his dark room and eat some chocolatey cakes while finishing his latest rendition of Spiderman battling it out with a giant squid. 

“No, it’s cool. You have better stuff to do. I’m sorry." Mikey dipped his hand in the Cheetos bag again before shoving a handful into his mouth, and dropping a few on the floor. He looked like he was shaking with nerves, and since Gerard didn’t reply, he ran out of the room and back upstairs. 

At least Gerard didn’t have to sit through any annoying small talk while he was trying to sulk, or maybe feel better, or maybe just feel nothing at all. Mikey would make him feel all sorts of stuff— like guilt, and awkwardness, and misunderstanding. 

It was better that way. 

\---

The weekend passed and Monday reared its ugly head. It was well after midnight when Gerard decided to go to bed, and now he was paying the price. His head was both throbbing and numb, and he hated it. What a dumb combination of feelings. Couldn’t have just gone all the way numb? That was crap. 

Upstairs, his mother was waiting for him, which was worse, because she had this big huge smile of her face and was staring at him like he was a prime cut of steak in the clearance bin at the butcher’s market.

“Gerard!” she said, going over to him and rustling up his greasy black hair. 

“Mom.” He groaned, and tried to smooth down the parts of his hair that were now sticking up in all directions. 

“You, me and your brother are going on an adventure!” She beamed. 

Gerard cocked his head to the side. He didn’t know what to make of that. “An... an adventure? Where are we going, Mom? We have school today. I have a social studies test.”

“Oh, Gerard! Don’t worry so much. You can miss _one_ day of school. I’m talking about having fun with your family!” She hurried around the kitchen opening and shutting cabinets but not taking anything out. “Okay? So what do you say, baby? You coming or what?” 

“I guess so... if I have to.” Gerard mumbled. 

“You do.” She frowned. 

She lost her frown almost immediately and ran through the same spiel with Mikey when he came into the kitchen not even two minutes later. 

She ushered them two into the back of her Honda Accord and took off down the highway faster than either of the boys were comfortable with. 

They ended up driving onto a gravel road an hour and a half later, and when Gerard looked out the window he didn’t really see much of anything. There were some trees, stone pillars, and a strange looking church. It didn’t look at that fun. Mikey didn’t seem too pleased with it either. Looking out the window on the opposite side of the car, Mikey’s hands danced over the door handle, twitchy and anxious with anticipation. 

All Gerard wanted was to be at school. He just wanted to be sat in art, working on his still life picture of a couple of fake daisies in a really tall vase. He just about had the shading down and he knew that he could probably finish it this week if he put his mind to it. 

And, more importantly, he missed Frank. He didn’t see him all weekend and he was looking forward to sitting with him on the bus for those fifteen minutes. Those were the best fifteen minutes all day. Except for lunch. And the bus ride home. And after school when they usually hung out some more. God, today sucked. 

The entire ride, their mother prattled on about this and that, not much of anything that Gerard found exciting. Half-off sales and updates on how G.W. Bush was running things in the office. He’d rather have heard about interesting things like why meteors weren’t constantly crashing into earth or whether or not Spider Man could kick Bat Man’s butt. 

Hearing their mother like this was a strange mix of exciting and uneasy. For one, Donna rarely spent any time out of her room, and for two, she didn’t often spend it hanging out with him and Mikey, so taking them out on a spontaneous trip made the boys feel very special, but also like something spoiled was sitting in the pits of their stomachs. 

When they hopped out of the car, the first thing that Gerard noticed was the musty smell in the air. It was akin to mothballs and mildew. It was not pleasant. Mikey asked to go back into the car, but his Mother refused, quoting something about family fun in the process. 

From the look on Mikey’s face, he could tell that his brother wasn’t expecting to have any _family fun_. Besides, they weren’t even a religious family, so he wasn’t sure why his mother had dragged them to a church of all places? The last time that his mother took him to church was Easter Sunday a few years back, and even then she let him look at his comics the entire time. 

Apparently she was a bit more religious, he figured, just never brought it up before. And maybe with her new—found energy she was getting more interested in things again? Gerard wasn’t too sure, but he wasn’t about to question it when he was finally starting to see some semblance of hope coming from his mother. Anything other than ruminating in a dark room was an improvement.

She grabbed them both by the hand and dragged them up the steps of the building with determination. The paint of the side of the chapel was cracked and faded, and in some places it was entirely peeled off in sizable chunks. It was mostly white, or resembled that of white, but mellowed yellows and green tinted the walls, giving it an old fungusy look that always came along with disrepair. 

There wasn’t anyone inside. No pastor, no choir, no warm and loving congregation. Every pew was empty, save for the dirt that sat atop them. So it was abandoned, then. Maybe she didn’t get the memo.

God, he was going to have a _lot_ to tell Frank later... This was so creepy. He wondered what Frank would think about the dead-eyed statues looking at them and the tons of tiny little spiders crawling around in the corners… Euguh. He’d probably be clinging to him, shrieking. That kid hated spiders. The thought of it almost made Gerard smile for a second. 

“Mom…?” Mikey’s small voice came from beside him. 

Donna was looking from thing to thing around the overside room; the eucharist bowl, the crack in the tiles in front of them, the scowling figure of Jesus christ tacked up against the cross, the pile of dusty bibles stacked up against the southwest wall, the crack in the stained glass ceiling where a sharp beam of light shot down to the floor in front of her, the barely intact rug lining the path to the chancel…

“Mom?” He repeated. 

She didn’t look over to him. She was still too engrossed in everything around her, it seemed. 

He tugged hard on her hand, which was still clutching his. "Mom!” 

She snapped her head down. “What, Mikey?” 

“Mom… um, where are we…?” 

Gerard shifted on his feet. His mother’s hand was tightening around his. 

“Where are we?!” She nearly shrieked. “Mikey, don’t you recognize _church_ when you see it? Haven’t I taught you boys anything?”

Mikey’s face fell, and he slinked back as much as he could with his mother keeping him close. 

“Excuse me, your mother asked you a question!” She spat. "Don’t be a brat, Mikey. I raised you better.” 

“Uh, Mom.” Gerard tugged at her hand. “You’re acting-- You-- Well, Mikey was just, uh, confused. You taught us really well, I swear.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “I know, sweet boys. Now come along.” 

She tugged them down the aisle towards the dimly lit chancel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Will update soon.


	10. Droopy Crosses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Mikey are alone with their Mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. This chapter is longer than usual. I had a lot of fun writing it and kept going going. There's not a lot of Frank in this chapter; forgive me. Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> OH--- happy Mar. 22! Here's to hoping for... literally anything to happen!

“Mom… it’s dark in here.” Gerard said.

Mikey looked behind his mother’s skirt at his brother. They locked eyes, and for a moment Gerard felt like they were 5 again and sharing thoughts without even talking. Something was wrong. This was weird. 

“Hush now, children.” She demanded. Her voice felt silver with steeliness. 

Gerard peeled his eyes away from Mikey and instead looked down towards the floor. He wanted his mom to stop. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be at school. They were probably in last period by now or something. Maybe school already ended. He didn’t even know the time. 

“kneel down now, boys. Here. Right there.” She pointed to the green carpeted step that created the stage of the chancel. It was damp and missing chunks. Gerard’s knees got soggy when he pressed them into it and he winced. 

“Mom—“

“No! Be quiet.” She snapped. “Be quiet. Be good, boys. They're here. They’re all here. They’re watching.” 

“W-who’s here, Mom?” Mikey whispered. 

“Everyone.” She said, voice full of wonder. Her eyes darted around the chapel. They were yet to sit still for even a second since they walked in. “The angels. The demons. All of them. Together.” 

Mikey looked at Gerard and gave him a scared frown that Gerard didn’t know what to do with. He was barely older than Mikey. He didn’t know what to do either. As always, he was a failure. He couldn’t be the big brother that Mikey needed him to be. Mom scared him too much. 

A thought popped in his head, and he wished that The Dark Angel were real. If he were here he would protect him and his brother, and totally smash all those other scary demons that his Mom was talking to, to bits. And maybe the angels too, who knows. He just wanted TDA to be real, and here, and get him away from this scary place. 

“Sorry, Mikey.” He mouthed silently. 

Mikey nodded. There wasn’t a single speck of disappointment in his face, and Gerard didn’t think he deserved that much assurance. He’d totally let him down and yet he was still looking at him like he could do no wrong. Being a big brother was a lot of responsibility. 

“Pray!” Donna shrieked suddenly, and Gerard and Mikey both tipped their heads. “Pray, boys! Hands together!” 

“H-Hail Mary…. full of grace… hallowed be thy n-name..." Gerard murmured under his breath. 

His mother wasn’t listening anymore. Her focus had shifted to a pile of dusty bibles stacked up against the southwest wall and she rushed over towards it. 

Mikey shuffled over on his knees, scooting closer to Gerard. “W-Where are we, Gee? I’m scared.” 

Gerard looked around as if he hadn’t already seen everything to see in the church; as if the answer he didn’t know lied in there somewhere. “Uh, a church.” He said. “I don’t know.”

“But, when’s Mom gonna take us home?” 

“I don’t know that either…” he whispered. 

“I’m really scared, Gee.” Mikey whimpered. He looked so much younger in that moment with his eyes wet and his lips turned down in a pitiful frown. 

“Me too, Mikey.” Gee said. “But… but it’ll be okay. Okay? Everything will be alright.”

He didn’t exactly believe that himself, but he needed to be strong for his brother. 

“What’s that—? Oh, god! Yes! Of course.” Donna was talking rapidly to herself by the bibles. She was facing a stone statue of a woman figure and her hands were flying everywhere as she talked. “No, I don’t need— well, yes— okay—“

She huffed, spun on her heels, and Gerard locked eyes with her by accident. 

“Take off your shoes, Gerard!” She hissed, and headed towards him. “Take them off! He’s watching! The devil is here. You must be barefoot _all the time_.” 

“What—? The _devil_?! Why—” Gerard gasped. 

“Hurry up!” She was right behind him, and she pulled at his shoe with force, sending him sprawling on his elbows and making him hit his head against the soggy carpet with a _thunk_. 

“Ow—! Mom!” He cried. She was pulling at his sketchers, but he always double knotted them so they were practically glued to his feet. “Ow! Let me—! That hurts, stop! I got it—!” 

Gerard shot Mikey a stern look while his Mom clawed at his sneakers. He got the message, and began to untie his shoelaces. 

She managed to rip off one shoe, and, without thinking, he brought the other down hard on her forearm as she tried to grasp it.

“Ah—!” She shrieked, and grasped his ankle. “You evil little boy—“ 

“Why are you doing this?!” Gerard cried. “Why can’t I have my shoes?! Mom— let me go!” He tried kicking his legs back and forth to shake her but her grip was tight. 

She didn’t answer any of his questions, she just pulled off his other shoe hard and threw it across the room. “See? They’re already getting to you! My god, I can’t believe it! What? What’s that?! Where?”

She craned her neck to the side, looking at something that Gerard and Mikey couldn’t see. “Where?” She asked. 

“Yes, yes. Of course.” She answered. She was up on her feet now, heading towards a door in the back, and shaking the lock. She kicked at the door and dust was sent flying everywhere. There was a dull groan and the sound of wet wood moving around. With a few more frenzied kicks, it flung open, and cool air rushed in. 

“Up, now, you two!” She called. “Come here!” 

. . . 

They’d been outside behind the chapel for what Gerard reasonably assumed to be about three hours, and he was starting to get really cold. He was past the point of boredom, and entering territory to completely and utterly apathetic.

The only thing keeping him grounded was Mikey shaking next to him. He had to be strong for Mikey. He couldn’t check out while Mikey was looking at him with those hopeful eyes. 

His Mom dragged them out towards this clearing in the back of the church, where three disconnected stone walls stood high. So, so high. There were three crosses that came out from the stone walls and met in the middle and his Mom has called them the ‘Droopy Crosses’ and then murmured something about ‘threes’. 

It took about two hours for her to expel her energy, as she paced around and around the droopy crosses so many times that Gerard and Mikey lost count, and then began to feel dizzy. She was talking to people, or angels, or something, and after a while they decided not to listen to it. The things that she was saying really scared Mikey. He’d never seen his Mom act like this before, and it left him shaking like a leaf. 

She forced the two of them at first to stand in the middle of the walls, where the crosses met overhead, and they did that for a while, but then she wasn’t satisfied, and banished them to sit on the grass and watch from afar. That bit was okay. Gerard preferred to be far away from those weird dropping crosses. 

Then, like a snapping twig, his Mom fell to the ground mid conversation with something he couldn’t see, and she started rocking back and forth, back and forth, and it took Mikey grabbing his arm to prevent him from running over towards her. She was still his _Mom_.

She tucked her head in between her knees and her shoulders shook until they didn’t. Then she was just really, really still. 

Even when Gerard finally convinced Mikey to let him go over and check, she wouldn’t move. She wouldn’t look up. It was like she turned into a statue. 

“What happened?” Mikey whispered. 

Gerard sat back down near Mikey. “She’s just… sitting there. She won’t talk to me.” 

“Not even a little bit? Did you tell her… did you say we want to go home?” He asked. 

Gerard nodded his head. “Yeah, I tried, like, everything. I even said she’s going to miss her Saturday Night Live re-runs and she didn’t say anything. And I said it’s gonna get cold out. I even poked her and… nothing.”

“Is she… _dead_?” Mikey whispered. 

“No, she’s not dead. She’s just, like, I don’t know, sleeping? Like really, really deeply, I guess.” 

“What are we gonna do then, Gee?”

“Um. I don’t know.” He said, looking around. It was starting to get really dark. “Let’s get our shoes. Then we’ll figure the rest out.” 

“Okay.”

Gerard led his little brother to the back door of the church, and he couldn’t get it to budge open. He pulled and pulled but he couldn’t quite get it like his Mom did. 

“I think she broke the door.” Mikey whined. “Our shoes are in there!” 

“I know, I know they are. Maybe we can go in the front."

Gerard took Mikey’s hand and led him back out front, using his other hand to fend off the rough thicket that grew around the side of the building. 

The front door was locked, too. 

“We don’t need shoes, Mikes. The car is right there. We can wait in the car and when Mom comes back she can get ‘em.”

“But how long will she be?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know any more than you do…” Gerard trailed off. “C’mon, get in the car, it’s unlocked.”

They huddled inside and it was marginally warmer than it was outside, but not by much. The sun was completely set and the daylight had all but gone. 

“Mom’s never done anything like this before…” Mikey said into his hands. 

“I know, Mikes. It’s gonna be okay. Everything will be alright.” 

Gerard wouldn’t tell him, but there was one other time he could remember his Mom being like this. It was a few years ago and Mikey was away at camp, and she went totally crazy buying lots of stuff and then ranting about all of these things that Gerard wished he could forget, and then dragging him to the food court in the mall where she started yelling and then security had to intervene and they took him into this police room for a while, and by the time that they let him back to his mom she wasn’t acting crazy anymore. 

This was worse than that, though. This time no-one was around to help. He had to be brave enough for himself. And Mikey. He had to be double brave for the both of them. 

So after an hour of waiting around, he took Mikey and started walking down the road towards where he thought there were buildings. 

“Gee, my feet hurt!”

“I know, mine do too.” Gerard said. His feet did really hurt. The gravel and rocks dug into his soles, and his socks had been soggy since the minute they started walking. “We’re almost there. I know it.”

“But we’ve been walking forever… how much longer is almost there?” 

“It’s just… a little while, Mikes. I don’t know.” He looked over and tried to offer Mikey a smile, but it felt fake on his lips. 

About ten minutes later, they crept up on a 7/11 and Gerard breathed a huge sigh of relief. The orange sign buzzing overhead was like a godsend. His own personal deity; 7/11.

“Yay! Gee, we’re here!” Mikey grinned, and squeezed his hand. 

. . . 

Inside, the clerk pointed them to the payphone and Gerard took out a few quarters. The only numbers he knew were 911, and he didn’t think the police would appreciate him calling if no-one was dying or shot, then there was Dad, but he wasn’t living in Jersey anymore and he didn’t like when Gerard talked about Mom, and then there was— 

“…Hello? Who is this?” 

“Um, it’s Gerard.” He squeaked out.

“Gerard? Honey, what’s the matter? It’s…” He heard some rustling on the other line. “Honey, it’s 3am.”

“Is it?” He asked. He didn’t know it got so late so fast. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called… did I wake you up, Mrs. Iero?”

“You did, but that’s perfectly fine, is everything alright? What’s the matter?”

“I… I, um.” Gerard’s voice was breaking. “I, um, I n-need some help, Mrs. Iero.” 

“Oh, sweetheart! Don’t cry.” Her voice was so sweet that it only made Gerard want to cry harder. “Tell me what’s wrong? What can I do? Where are you, are you home?”

“I don’t know. I’m at 7/11. I don’t know where we are."

“We? Is— is Frank there with you?” 

“No.” Gerard sniffled. “Mikey, my little brother. But I miss Frank.”

“Awh, you two don’t move a muscle, okay? I want you to ask the cashier for the address, and then I’ll come and get you, okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” he said. 

“Are you going? Go ask now.”

“Oh, right.” he mumbled. 

He handed the phone to Mikey and put in another quarter before going up to the cashier. 

“Hi.” He heard Mikey say into the phone as he walked away. “Yeah, I’m—“

. . . 

When he came back, Mikey handed him the phone and Mrs. Iero wrote down the address and promised she’d be there soon. Gerard wanted to stay on the line with her but she couldn’t bring the phone so they had to hang up. 

The cashier gave them each a coca cola and let them sit on stools behind the counter and told them all about what it’s like to stock the shelves and count inventory and manage the till. Mikey was really interested in it but Gerard couldn’t stop staring at the door hoping Mrs. Iero would walk through. 

It only took 25 minutes for her to show up. Gerard ran to her and engulfed her in the biggest hug he ever gave, and let the tears fall down. Mikey came up beside him and Mrs. Iero scooped him up into the hug, too.

“Oh, Gerard. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” She said softly.

Gerard nodded and wiped at his eyes. 

“And you must be Mikey” She said, holding him gently as he pulled away from the hug. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mrs. Iero, or you can call me Linda.” 

Mikey blushed beside him. Gerard knew exactly how it felt to have Mrs. Iero pay attention to you. It was like drowning in a pool of daisies in the best sort of way. 

“Linda.” He whispered softly.

“Are you boys alright? Are you hurt?” She said, looking both of them over from head to toe. 

“No, I’m okay.” He was barely hurt at all, save for knocking his head on the floor and getting a few scapes on the bushes outside. 

“I’m _cold_.” Mikey said, and rubbed at his arms. It was true; he had goosepimples running all up his forearms. 

“We’ll get you all nice and warmed up in—“

“Oh my _GOD_!” The bell on the door rang behind them. "Gee!"

“Frank—!” Mrs. Iero snapped. “I told you to wait in the car!”

Frank bounded over and crashed into his friend, knocking him to the ground. “Oh my god, Gerard, are you okay?! You weren’t at school and I was kinda worried, but then you weren’t at the park either, or the comic store, or the park, and you didn’t answer the phone and I was so worried!” Frank said all in one breath, and then he was panting and gasping for air, but he didn’t stop. “I missed you much! I can’t believe you were outside at 3 in the morning?! You have to tell me what happened! Why didn’t you call me earlier?? What are you doing at 7/11?! My mom woke me up to come get you!” 

Gerard finally smiled for the first time all day, and he grinned from ear to ear. He hugged Frank back just as tight, and rolled around on the floor with him as he spat out all the things he was dying to say. He wouldn’t shut up— He just kept going and going and going until he ran out of wind. 

“I… we, my mom—“ Gerard tried to explain, but felt at a loss. “We walked here. We don’t have any shoes.” 

He wasn’t making very much sense. Frank looked down at his feet and made a face at his soggy socks. “Ew!” 

He pried his shoes off and shoved them at Gerard, but Gerard just held them in his hands and looked at them. “I don’t think I can fit in these, Frankie.” 

“Yeah, but, your feet are gross. Just look at them!" he said, pointing down at the socks. 

“They won’t _fit_ , though.” He said.

Frank looked from the shoes, to Gerard’s feet, to his own. They were much smaller. "Oh.” 

Gerard laughed and pulled Frank in for another hug. "Thanks, though. I’d totally put them on if I could.” 

Frank stepped back and turned towards Mikey. “You’re Gee's little brother right?”

Mikey nodded. 

“I’m Frank. You wanna wear my shoes?”

“Oh.” Mikey mumbled. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Frank handed Mikey the shoes, and he bent down to peel off the wet socks, and slip his feet into Frank’s vans. 

“Wow, thank you.” Mikey smiled, finally. “And I'm Mikey.”

Frank smiled back. “Yeah, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope everyone is doing well with everything that's been going on lately. Pretty much everyone in the world has been affected in some way, be it emotionally, financially, or physically. I'm glad everyone one here has an outlet for the shit they may be going through. I work in healthcare and it's been really hard to see the affect it has. Make sure you and your loved ones are taking it seriously. Stay safe, everybody.


	11. Waffles for Mikey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Mikey stay over at Frank's after that terrible night with their Mother.

“Wow!” 

“Yeah, my mom got that for me last Christmas, Mikes." Frank said. Mikey was holding a baseball card so close to his face he was practically licking it. 

“Wow, you’re so lucky.”

“Mikey, you play soccer, why do you even care about a baseball card?”

Mikey scoffed. “It’s _Nolan Ryan_ , Gee! That’s why! He's only the most ultimate pitcher of all time. 

“Never heard of ‘em.” 

“Well, have you ever heard of the _New York Mets_? Or the _Huston Astros?_ Oh, my god. Gee!”

Gerard shrugged, looking over at Frank who also shrugged. 

“Frank?! But it’s _your_ card! You can’t not know!" Mikey gasped. 

“Yeah, but my Mom didn’t even ask if I wanted it. Baseball is, like, whatever.” 

“You guys are _crazy_. I can’t wait to tell James I held a 1971 Nolan Ryan card in my own two hands.” 

“You can have it.” Frank shrugged. “If you want.”

“You don’t have to—“ Gerard said.

“OH MY GOD REALLY, FRANK?” Mikey shrieked. The card nearly fell out of his hand and he bounced up and down in place.

Frank laughed. A big smile flashed on his face and he told Mikey that yeah, he could totally have it. Mikey launched at him with a big hug and squeezed him tight. Gerard looked at the two of them from the side and his stomach felt like it was turning over. He thought maybe he was hungry or something. The last time he ate was an hour ago back in 7/11 when he had a coca cola. 

“Mikey, say thank you, okay?” Gerard scolded him when they broke apart. 

“Thanks, Frankie!” Mikey smiled. 

It didn’t make Gerard feel any better, but he brushed it aside. 

“You have _so_ much cool stuff here, Frank. Gee, why didn’t you ever tell me that Frank was so cool?” He barely took any room to breathe. “Frank, Gee never tells me anything. I’m glad we’re friends now.” 

Frank laughed and nudged Gerard in the side with his elbow. “Yeah, he’s kind of a grump. Right, Gee? I practically forced you to like me.”

Gerard’s smile was funny and lopsided, and he shuffled his foot on the carpet, remembering back when he used to tell Frank to go away and stop bothering him. It felt like ages ago, but really it was just a few months. 

“Yeah, only cos you were a scary little kid that went around punching people in the nose!” Gerard laughed. 

“Little?! How _dare_ you!” Frank gasped in mock horror. "You’re like— you're only like— 4 inches taller than me!”

“You’re shorter than me too.” Mikey said. 

“I— that’s not—“ 

“It’s true, shorty.” Gerard smirked.

“You—!” Frank cried. Jumping on top of Gerard, he toppled him over, sending the two of them down on the floor, Mikey watching them in a fit of giggles. Frank wrestled Gerard off of him where he was grabbing desperately. 

“Frank— get off—“ Gerard swung his hip up and managed to roll his weight so that Frank was flung to his side and scrambling to regain his spot. Gerard wedged his knee over top of his though, and Frank was pinned underneath. “Stop it!” 

“Never!” Frank howled. His mouth was all twisted up in an angry smile, and Gerard could tell he was one tickle away from breaking out in laughter, so he wiggled his fingers into the crooks of his armpits and started tickling furiously. 

“GERARD—!” Frank giggled, wheezed, and then gasped for breath. He was squirming and gasping like fish stranded on shore. “Oh my god! Stop! That tickles! Please! OhmygodGerardstoprightnow!”

Gerard was grinning from ear to ear. He was loving it. "Tell me you’re a shorty and I’ll stop.” 

“No! ahhh—!” Frank giggled. “Geeeee!”

Mikey was watching the two of them from Frank’s bed where he was sitting cross-legged and amused. 

“Say it!” 

“Never!”

“Then I’m gonna keep tickling you!” 

“I can take it!” Frank huffed. As much as he wanted the tickling to stop, he was _not_ going to call _himself_ a shorty. Gerard could do it all he wanted, but hell if he was going to say it about himself. 

Instead, he clutched onto Gerard’s sides and fought back. Gerard immediately cried out in horror, losing his grip and laughing uncontrollably. 

“Oh, who’s laughing now, huh, Gee? That _tickle_?”

“Frank, no! Wait—!” 

Frank moved his hands from his sides to under his arms, and Gerard off to the side so that he could climb on top and grab hold of his ankles, and tickled his feet relentlessly. 

“NO! FRANK!” Gerard wheezed. He kicked his feet but only hit air. Frank had a tight grip and nimble little fingers. 

“Say, say—“ Frank was grasping at something because his best friend didn’t really have anything wrong with him. He was tall and had nice dark hair and his eyes were the good kind of hazel instead of the ugly hazel that his were. “Say— say you’re a Mama’s boy!” 

“I—“ Gerard’s frantic kicking came to an end. 

“What…?” Mikey said from up on the bed. 

“Uh, oh crap. I didn’t mean it like that.” Frank whispered. “Shit.” 

“No, I know, Frankie.” Gerard was just laying with his feet under frank now, so he sat up. “I know. It’s okay, really.” 

“I wasn’t thinking about it like—. My friends back home always used to tease me about that. That’s why I said it. Cause, y’know.”

Mikey grinned and sing-songed “Frank’s a Mama’s boy!" from the bed and Gerard laughed. He leaned up and high-fived his younger brother, which made Frank scoff and cross his arms.

“That’s it. It’s bed time for you losers.” Frank pouted. 

Gerard looked at Mikey with a grin and whispered, “Frank has a bed time!” 

Mikey snorted. 

. . . 

Gerard and Mikey took turns going into the bathroom and putting on the pajamas that Frank let them borrow. Both of them looked too big in them, but Mikey looked like he was both swimming inside of them and too tall all at the same time. At least Gerard filled them out. In fact, Gerard tugged at the hem of his shirt because it felt a little too small in the sort of way that made him feel like his belly was too big. He didn’t think he was chubby, or at least he’d never had the thought before, but with Frank’s shirt on he could see his tummy sticking out from underneath. Mikey’s tummy didn’t, though. 

They played a few levels of Super Mario before Mrs. Iero came in and told the boys to go to sleep. It was past 4 in the morning but they didn’t feel that sleepy. She turned off the console and made them hop into bed before she left. 

“So… are you guys tired?” 

“Shh, Mikey, we gotta sleep.” Gerard whispered.

“I’m not tired.” Frank said. 

“Your mom said—“

“Yeah, my mom says lots of stuff. We stay up all the time, Gee!”

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

“I wanna show you something, Mikey!” Frank smiled. 

“Oo, what?” His head perked up from the pillow. 

“Here, Gee, hold this—“ He gave Gerard a corner of the blanket and reached under the bed for his flashlight. 

“Frank—“ 

“C’mon, Gee!” Frank shuffled halfway under the sheet and brought the rest over top of their heads. “It’s Dreamland!”

He shined the light over to Mikey who was cheesing like an idiot, and at Gerard who had a half-smile and looked sort of confused. 

“This is so cool!” Mikey shuffled closer to his brother. "Wow, Gee, it’s like _camping_ , or something. We’ve never been in a tent before.” 

“Yeah, I guess. I guess it is.” He mumbled. 

“Me and Gee stay up all the time and tell stories and stuff in Dreamland. Gee is the _best_ storyteller and the best drawer. He’s the best at everything.” 

“I am not! You’re way better at story telling. You thought of all that fire stuff for The Da—. Oh.” He stopped, and looked over at Mikey. 

“The what? What’s that? What’s that, Frank?”

“It’s, I mean, what, you don’t wanna tell him ‘bout our superhero? Why?”

Gerard scratched his head. He didn’t _know_ why. “I don't know. It’s just like, it’s— I don’t know. It’s our thing?” 

“Oh. Like a secret?” Frank said. 

“I guess.” Gerard said, looking from Frank to Mikey. "I don't know.”

“You guys don’t have to tell me ‘bout your superheroes. I don’t really like comic books anyway.”

“Oh.” Frank nodded. “Okay.”

“Um. There was something I wanted to ask though.” Mikey said, looking down, and playing with a loose string on his pajama bottoms. 

“What?” Frank and Gerard said in unison. 

He looked up at them both. The light was shining up towards the ceiling of the tent. “It’s… about Mom.” His eyes flickered to Gerard. “What’s… what’s going to happen to Mom?”

Frank looked over towards Gerard too. 

“Uh, well, Mrs. Iero said that she went to the police station. She said we might not see her for a little while.”

“She got arrested?”

“No, but they took her there to figure stuff out, I don't know.”

Mikey looked thoughtful. “How long is a little while, Gee?”

“Mrs. Iero said she didn’t know, Mikes.”

“But what do you think?”

“Maybe like… a week?”

“We can see Mom in a week?”

“No! I don’t know. No one told me anything.”

“Do you think she’s gonna tell the police that we were with her too? Do you think we’ll get arrested?” 

Gerard looked to Frank, but Frank shrugged. “Probably not. I don’t think we did anything illegal ‘cept maybe trespassing. Plus, if they were going to arrest us we’d probably already be arrested.”

“I really hope we don’t get arrested. I don’t want to go to jail.”

“You wouldn’t go to jail, you’d go to juvie.” Frank said.

“We're not going to juvie.” Gerard nudged him.

“What’s juive, Frank?”

“It’s like jail, but for kids. My friend back home, his older brother went to juvie cause he was 16 and he was selling drugs.”

“Oh my god. You knew people who did drugs? Mikey gasped.

“What?! No! I hardly ever even saw his brother. He was a bad kid, we tried to stay away from him.”

“Ok, good.” Mikey nodded with a serious look on his face. 

“Did you have a lot of friends back where you used to live?" Gerard looked over at Frank.

“Uh, I had a few. But not really a lot.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Frank is so cool. I bet you had tons of friends, Frank!" Mikey smiled. 

Frank shrugged. “Back home you had to be careful who you talked to. Lots of people like my friend's brother.”

“Well… I’m glad you’re here.” Gerard said. “Cos it doesn’t sound really safe where you’re from.” 

“Y’know Belleville is that different from Bayonne. They're not even like, _that_ far apart. Technically. Even though it feels like it.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m glad anyway.” 

. . . 

In the morning Frank woke up by himself because the Way brothers were already downstairs cooking breakfast with his mother. Mikey was really good at cracking eggs and Gerard was already a pro at making breakfast from all the times he’s helped Mrs. Iero when he’s stayed over. It’d turned him into somewhat of an early bird. 

“Frankie! You’re up.” Mrs. Iero smiled at him. 

“Hey, mom.”

“I love your mom, Frankie.” Mikey said from the stool at the counter.

“Oh, okay.” Frank made a face at Gerard who giggled. 

“All right, boys, go sit down. After breakfast we’re going to have a little talk. You want syrup, honey?” 

Frank nodded. They all chowed down on shambled eggs and pancakes, and waffles for Mikey. Mrs. Iero only had a cup of coffee, but she put three little cups of milk into it. Frank asked for a sip but she wouldn’t let him have any, saying it was for grownups. 

Frank didn’t think that was very fair and he spent most of the breakfast whining to his Mom about why he deserved it. It didn’t lead anywhere. He wasn’t allowed. His Mom made him clean up all the dishes too, which he thought was her sneaky way of punishing him, but saying it was because the Way boys were guests and that they didn’t have to do dishes. 

She took them over to the living room and sat them down on the couch while Frank was scrubbing the syrup off Mikey’s plate. His neck was starting to get sore from looking back so many times wondering what it was that she was saying to him. The curiosity was so itchy that he decided to give up on the dishes for the time being and join the other two on the couch. 

“—tomorrow. Then we’ll know more. But for tonight, you two wonderful boys can stay here. Ok?”

“Well, so then, when can I see my Mom?” Mikey twiddled with his thumbs. 

“Honey, they have a few things they need to work out before you can see her. It could take a little while. I’m not sure yet. But as soon as the social worker tells me any more information, you two are going to be the first to know, okay?”

“Mmhm. Gee said I can see Mom next week though?”

“I did not!” Gerard gasped. “No, Mrs. Iero, I swear! I said I don’t know, I was _guessing_.” 

“Oh.” Mikey said. “Yeah, no, that’s right. I forgot."

“You boys understand that your Mom, she's… well, she was a little sick yesterday, right?”

“Mom looked better than she has in a while though."

“Yeah, but Mikes, that’s weird for her.” Gerard said.

“Nu-uh, what’s weird is her staying in bed all the time. She never played with me before, or bought us food, or cleaned up. She was doing all those things. She was getting better!”

“Honey, your Mom is a very complex person. Sometimes better doesn’t look the same or everyone.”

“It doesn’t?” 

“No, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t _okay_. Your mom loves you very much, and she’s okay, but she’s a little bit sick still. She was before, you’re right, but she still is. It’s just a different kind of sick than the kind from when she was tired in her room. Do you understand?”

Mikey nodded and Gerard took his hand into his own. That made Mikey’s face light up. 

“S’gonna be okay, Mikey.” Gerard smiled. “Mom’s okay, and Mrs. is awesome. And you always have, uh, me. Y’know?”

Mikey smiled and leaned in close to his brother. “Yeah, Gee, I know.”

The day passed by fast. Frank had to finish up the dishes which he wasn’t pleased about. Mikey taught Frank how to kick a soccer ball that he didn’t even know he owned, and Gerard got to spend a lot of time with Mrs. Iero. She really liked all of his drawings and even hung one up on the refrigerator next to Frank’s straight A report card and his mediocre sharpie rendition of an octopus fighting a submarine.

It was nearly 4pm when the phone rang and Mrs. Iero got up to answer it. 

“Hello? Yes, speaking. Yes, they’re here. Mmhm. Mmhm. Okay. Oh? Why…? Are you sure?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!


	12. Mrs. Korze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard meets up with a social worker. :(
> 
> EDIT : minor character death !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT : minor character death ! talk of death in a way that could be triggering. be advised 
> 
> For reference: 
> 
> Gerard is 12  
> Frank is edit: 12  
> Mikey is 9.

“C’mon, boys! Hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

“One sec, ma!” 

“Coming!” Mikey called out as he bounded down the stairs. 

Gerard was on his tail, stalking down the steps with a frown on his face. 

“Aw, Gee.” Frank said, his eyes falling over his face, and dropping his own smile. “It’s gonna be fine. I know it.” 

“Yeah, Frankie, I guess.” He mumbled. He wasn’t really sure what fine would even be. There were a lot of things he didn’t know. 

“You can have the window seat, ‘kay?” 

That got a smile out of him. 

The ride to the place was really long, but Frank kept Mikey and Gerard entertained the entire time with his intricate renditions of how each member of the marvel universe would fight which type of dinosaur. There were a lot of different combinations, and a lot of different sounds he could make. Mikey couldn’t stop giggling and it nearly threw Frank off his game. 

Inside the building was stark white. Lots of busy people filing through the hallways wearing overly formal suits like they were going to a funeral. There was an American flag hung from a pole near the door and the temperature must have dropped by a hundred degrees when they walked in. Gerard shivered. He should’ve brought a coat. 

“But a Valocaraptor couldn’t even keep up with The Flash!” Mikey whined. “You can’t say that! Flash would be outta there so quick.”

“Yeah but Flash wouldn’t run from a fight, Mikey, he’s a superhero, he’s gotta stay and fight.” Frank said, his his eyes trained on his red Nike sneakers in fascination, like the rest of the world didn’t even exist. Had he even noticed they’d reached some sort of freezing hellscape lined in beaurocratic flies? Gerard didn’t think so. “Flash would try ‘n outsmart the raptor, but Raptors are all brute force. He’d strike down Flash and slash em up with his talons. He wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t know...” Mikey trailed off. 

“No, it’s true. I swear.”

Mikey frowned. “Well, okay.”

“Mikes, c’mere.” Gerard ushered him over close to Mrs. Iero, who was currently talking with the red haired lady at the desk about files and people he didn’t know. 

Mikey smiled and reached out for Gerard’s hand. It had his stomach twisted all up. Mikey was just a kid, but Gerard was bigger. He couldn’t be holding his hand like that anymore. He was way too grown up, but at the same time Mikey really needed him. He had to push down that sloshy fleeing in his belly and be the big brother that Mikey needed him to be for once. He grabbed back at Mikey's hand and gripped tight. A silent gesture. _I got you_ , little brother. 

They sat down for a little while, which dragged on, but after an hour or so the red haired lady called them into a secret room in the back where there were more people in suits and some ladies in blouses, long skirts, and really pointy shoes. 

Gerard had to stuff Frank’s gameboy back in his pocket because Mrs. Iero gave him a look that he was scared of. The lady was talking to him but he wasn’t listening to anything she was saying. She used too many big words and they weren’t interesting enough to try and figure out. 

Frank was more interesting. He was kicking his feet against the leg of his chair, then his foot, then his shoe, giggling and trying to be sneaky when his Mom would turn around. Gerard snickered and watched him make an innocent face to his Mom and then go right back to kicking his feet. Gerard made a pretend ‘oww’ face and for a second Frank looked really guilty until he realized Gerard was just playing. 

“Gerard, honey, you need to pay attention.” She said, pulling him out of his head. “Mrs. Korze wants to ask you some questions.”

“Oh. Um, yeah.” Gerard mumbled. He didn’t like the way Mr. Korze looked. Her hair was pulled up so tight behind her head she looked like she was bald. Plus she had on this really obnoxious blouse with all these white ruffles coming down her chest and Gerard found it really distracting, like a sheep sat on top of her and died. 

“So Gerard.” She began. She wasn’t even looking at him, just down at her clipboard. “How old are you?”

“M’ 12. Mikey’s 9.”

“Who did you live with?”

“Mikey and my Mom.”

“What about your dad?”

“Um, I dunno. He’s not around much.”

“Is he alive?”

“W-What?” Gerard stuttered out, confused and shocked, looking over to Mrs. Iero who had her lips pursed. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. 

“That’s not exactly and appropriate question—“

“With all due respect, Mrs. Iero, I believe I can decide what’s appropriate and what’s not. And mind you, you’re here as a courtesy.”

She huffed. “Just don’t antagonize him. He’s been through enough.”

Mrs. Korze Looked at Gerard again and he wanted to curl up into himself like a beetle. Though maybe she would stomp on him if he did. 

“Yeah.. he’s alive.”

“Are you sure?”

“Excuse me—!”

“Um. Yes?”

He didn’t want to look over at Frank because he knew that he was paying attention now and if he did he thought he might cry. Instead he looked at Mikey and tried to be brave for him. 

“I’m sorry to be the one to inform you of this” she didn’t look very sorry. “But your father passed away two months ago. We have all the records right here. We believe it was the reason for your Mother's psychotic brea-” 

" _Mrs. Korze_!" Mrs. Iero shrieked, standing up from her seat. 

Mikey let out a whimper and started crying so Mrs. Iero rushed over and scooped him up and hugged him. “Mrs. Korze, I think this is enough. We’re going.” She said tersely. 

Gerard still didn’t want to look at Frank. Don’t look. _Don’t_. 

And then he looked and Frank’s face was all soft and full of concern and Gerard started crying, he couldn’t help it. And just like his mom did, he came over and hugged Gerard and didn’t let him go. 

“F-Frankie…” 

“S’okay, Gee.” He said. He didn’t know whether it was okay or not but that’s what his mom said so it must be true. 

“I don’t eve-even like my dad.” He cried. There was a big wet spot on the shoulder of Frank’s teeshirt and Gerard felt even worse. “Now he’s gone.” 

“We still have—“ Mrs. Korze began. 

“Will you stop?” Mrs. Iero nearly shouted. “What kind of social worker are you? This is disgusting. I’m having you removed from this case.” 

“Mrs. Iero, you don’t have any legal foothold in this matter, unfortunately for you. Again, you’re here as a courtesy.” 

“Well then I _will_. I’ll— I’ll adopt them. They can come home with me.” 

“It’s not that simple.”

“I don’t care. Come on, boys, we’re going.”

“You’ll be hearing from us soon. They can’t stay with you, this has to go through the proper channels.”

“I’m not letting anything happen to them.” She said. She was grasping Gerard's hand now and Mikey's in the other. “Let’s go. Frankie, honey, come on.”

“Kay, Mom.” 

Mrs. Iero was walking really fast and Gerard had to speed walk in order to keep up with her. The lady at reception was trying to call after her but she ignored it, she was saying something but it didn’t look like Mrs. Iero cared. 

They stopped at McDonalds on the way home which Frank was ecstatic about, practically bouncing in his seat, and the excitement was rubbing off on Mikey, too, who was grinning and chattering about what toy he was going to get. Gerard and Frank insisted on getting regular combo meals, Frank got a Big Mac with lots of pickles and Gerard got chicken nuggets and fries. It technically wasn’t kid food because it wasn’t on the kids menu. Mikey got a happy meal, and inside there was a Swamp Stinger LEGO motion set but Mrs. Iero said he had to wait until they got home to open it up because it was just a little plastic baggie of Legos and he would just spill it all over the car seat. 

Later that night when Mrs. Iero told them to go upstairs and play video games, Gerard went downstairs for a glass of water and heard someone talking on the phone. Mrs. Iero was talking all angry into the phone, and Mr. Iero was staring at her with furrowed brows and holding her hand. She was talking low and Gerard was trying not to look like he was eavesdropping but he heard his name so he scooted up to the edge of the doorway and listened in. 

“That can’t be— no, I know very well. Well there has to be something I can— no, okay. Well surely—“ she went silent for a few minutes. “I won’t let them be split up!” She tried not to shout, and she was squeezing Mr. Ieros hand really hard. “This is ridiculous! I have a home for them right now— no, screw the paperwork! I’ll talk how I please— no. That’s not— hello?”

“Frank, they hung up on me!” She scoffed. 

“We’ll keep trying, hun.” His fingers looked red as hell. “We just keep trying. It’s all we can do. Tomorrow we’ll try again.” 

“I just…” her voice faltered. Gerard moved away from the door and held back tears. He didn’t like to see her angry. Today had been too much. Plus was he not going to be allowed to live here anymore? Where was he going to go? His dad was… his dad… _oh, God_. He didn’t even like his Dad that much! He was feeling the prickling tell tale of tears again and bit his lip to stop them. He forgot his glass of water and went back upstairs. 

The only good thing about your dad dying is that you can cry and no one will blame you. Mikey fell asleep and Frank sat with Gerard on the floor by the NES and hugged him while he cried. He didn’t even let go when these really gross snot bubbles came out of his nose or when he wiped it on his sleeve; Frank didn't mind at all. 

They didn’t say anything, not in words, but Gerard felt like Frank understood. They fell asleep on the floor and woke up with stiff backs the next morning, but at least it was better than waking up alone when your eyes are puffy from crying so much. 

Frank didn’t realize that Gerard wasn’t just crying for his dad, though. He was crying because he was going to be tossed out onto the streets and then he’d really have no food, and how would he feed Mikey? Mikey was already so thin that he looked like a skeleton and if Gerard was in charge of feeding him then he’d wither away into nothing! Plus where was he going to put all his clothes and his pencils?! It was too much. 

He shook frank awake and he groaned and rubbed his shoulder, the one he fell asleep on. Frank wasn’t happy to hear that Gerard was leaving either and practically started crying himself. He didn’t want to lose Gee, and he told him as much. He told Gee he could stay in his room with him and they could share his bed and share everything and stay best friends forever and everything would be fine. But Gerard knew that he couldn’t cause Mrs. Iero already tried that and it didn’t work. He was going to have to go somewhere else. Mikey, too. 

Frank was getting kind of pissy after he cycled through trying not to cry and making way too hopeful plans. He usually got what he wanted for the most part. Except for moving. And now Gerard was moving and everything was getting bad again and he just wanted it to _stop_. 

He couldn’t lose another friend. Not his _best friend_. Not the best friend that he’d ever had. Gee was like the best person in the entire world. They did everything together. They hung out every day. They did homework together. They liked all the same music. They were halfway through beating Super Mario and Gee was the only one who could ever find the secret passageways with extra bonus coins. They had _dreamland_. His chest was getting tight and his head dizzy just thinking about Gerard having to leave and live on the street. What if he got killed?! Jersey is dangerous at night! Even _he_ was scared of being outside after the sun set, and he was super tough! He could beat up kids three times his size. Gerard wouldn’t last. Oh, this sucked so bad. 

“Gee, you can’t go. You _can’t_.” He said with intensity that he never knew he had. “I don’t care what anyone says.”

“The social wor—“

“Fuck the social worker! She— she’s a bitch!”

Gerard gasped. “But—“

“I won’t let you go.” He choked. “Don’t leave me.” 

“I don’t have any choice, Frankie. I don’t wanna go either!”

Frank lunged at him and they fell to the floor in an awkward hug and Frank started crying for the first time since he met him.


	13. Sirens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Mikey have a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who is still reading this. I know I haven't even come close to the Frerard yet and I'm 23k words in. Yikes. 
> 
> I'm just, like, really into drawn out, pointless stories, what can I say?
> 
> And thanks to everyone that's commenting and shit, you guys are awesome, and sorry if I haven't responded to your comment cause sometimes I forget, and think I'll do it later, and I don't, and then it's been too long lmao. 
> 
> Yep, so, that's it. Enjoy the chapter. More angsty BS.

The next three months went by smoothly. Gerard would look back on them as some of the happiest of his life. He and Frank were as thick as thieves doing everything together. Mikey and him slowly found things to talk about, and it was great; nothing like it was at home. Frank’s birthday passed and he turned thirteen for which he was ecstatic. Mrs. Iero threw a big party filled with cake, balloons, and lots of Italian people. Frank spent the entire time glued to Gerard’s side. Or maybe Gerard was glued to Frank’s. It didn’t matter so much as long as they were together. 

They stayed up late watching movies, wasted entire days listening to their favorite albums front to back, and spent time together doing different things like Gerard drawing while Frank tried to play guitar. Life was good. School was tolerable. Gerard felt like he finally had a home and a family. 

It sucked that it all had to end, though, because come January Gerard and Mikey were going to be placed in the system despite how hard Mrs. Iero was working to prevent that. There was too much red tape and not enough common sense coming out of that agency. It didn’t help that Mrs. Korze was still overseeing everything and she had a chip on her shoulder about them. Gerard didn’t really think he could be held responsible for everything that happened, but Mrs. Korze seemed to think that he could because she was a huge asshole to him. 

. . . 

It was the last week before Gerard and Mikey were scheduled to leave and the mood in the house was heavy. Gerard tiptoed from the guest room, no, _his_ room, to Frank’s and climbed into his bed beside him. Frank was already under the covers with his flashlight waiting for him. His hair had gotten longer in the past few months and it kept swinging down in his eyes, almost long enough to tuck it back behind his ear- and why was he thinking about that? 

“You got the stuff?” Gerard whispered.

Frank grinned and held up a bag full of sour patch kids and a bunch of their drawings. Dreamland had slowly evolved into the two of them making up stories and laughing like idiots. Frank usually rambled on while Gerard would try to draw whatever outrageous thing he’d concocted. Last night it was a chicken with the head of an octopus and lasers for arms. Gerard snickered thinking about it. 

“Gee?” Frank was shoving sour patch kids in his mouth and staring at him with a nervous expression, his voice tentative. 

“Yeah, Frankie?”

“I know we haven’t talked about it… but… you’re leavin’, like, real soon…”

Gerard sucked in a breath because, no, he wasn’t ready to acknowledge that yet, let alone talk about it. But Frank was spilling out the words like it was nothing and there wasn’t any way to take it back. The words were hanging in the air there between them.

“Um. Yeah.” It came out more like a squeak, but it was the best that he could do on such little oxygen. _Breathe_ , Gerard. 

“What are we gonna do?” Frank was pleading now, and it was making Gerard nervous because Frank didn’t do that. Frank was really strong and he always had all the answers, and he never got lost walking around the city even though Gerard had been here all his life and Frank just come last year. He just kind of knew things. But the papers in his hands were getting all wrinkled up and his eyes were big like sauces and he didn’t look like he was going to cry exactly, just like he was a lost little puppy dog. 

“I ‘dunno. I’m gonna have to go, I think…” Gerard trailed off. Why did he make him say it? Leaving was hard enough. Why did he have to say it out loud? Saying it out loud would make it… _real_.

“You don’t have to go!”

“I do! I don’t have any choice! The social workers said so!” he said, breathing fast. It was getting really hot under the sheet. It felt like the room was spinning. Frank reached out and grabbed both of his forearms and Gerard locked his eyes onto his face like and anchor and suddenly the room was spinning without them, and they were grounded together in the middle, in dreamland, and as long as they held on they wouldnt fly away. 

“Run away with me.” He was resolute. He looked a bit crazed, but Gerard couldn’t blame it. 

“I can't,” he replied, praying that Frank wouldn’t let go. “What about Mikey?”

“Mikey can come too! We’ll all leave and go far away where Mrs. Whatever can't find us.” 

“You can’t leave. You live here!” 

“I don’t care!” Frank tightened his grip. “If you’re not here, then what's the point?! I’ll go anywhere as long as it’s with you.”

“Frank, but— your parents! The police will arrest us!” 

“They won’t find us! We’ll pack everything we need and we’ll go really far away. We’ll go to Bayonne, or the desert, or all the way to Mexico or, or—“

“Frankie, we _can't_!” 

Frank was shaking. His fingers dug in hard. “Why not?!”

Gerard whimpered. He didn’t know why not. Something about it didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to move, or run away, or anything else, hell, he just wanted to be nothing at all. “Frankie, I don’t k-know.”

“But Gee…” his voice faltered, his eyes wavered. The room was tipping and twirling. “I need you.”

“I need you too.” He said. And he did. He needed him more than anything else in the world. He didn’t know life without his best friend. Life began that day in the park back in July amongst the fireflies and the crickets and the bottle rocket of a kid who swore too loud. 

“...Guys?” A little whisper erupted from beside the bed. Gerard tugged the sheet off from overtop of them and saw Mikey standing there twiddling his thumbs. “Uh, guys, can I come in? I can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, Mikes!” Gerard said, grabbing his hand. “C’mon.”

Frank was still quiet. He was watching the scene unfold without a word. His face still pensive, his eyes dark. 

“Frank, whatcha got?” Mikey took the paper from his balled up fist. “It’s all wrinkled. Is this, who is that, I forget—“ 

“The Dark Angel.” He murmured. 

“Mmh. Yeah.” He looked at Gerard. “Are you guys still doing dream land? Aren’t you a little bit old for that?” He grinned at Frank. “You’re 13 now!”

“Hey!” Frank snatched the paper back. “You’re never too old. Besides, Gee’s still 12.” 

Gerard laughed scooted over next to Frank so they were sitting pressed up against each other. “Never too old. We’ll always have dreamland, okay?” He took the paper back from Mikey, smoothing it out and gluing his eyes to it. “And TDA. He’ll always be there to protect us. You don’t need to worry, Frank, everything is going to be okay. Y’know? Everything will be fine. Whatever happens. I know it.”

Frank shrugged and leaned his head against Gerard's shoulder. It didn’t look like he wanted to talk anymore. Mikey whispered with his brother for a little while, soft and fearful, until Gerard, playing caretaking not for the first time, pulled the duvet up over them all and hushed them into sleep. Tomorrow would be a better day. 

Maybe. 

. . . 

It was a Thursday when Mikey stood at the door of 39 Guano Dr. with Mrs. Iero, Gerard, and Mrs. Korze. It felt like the end of the world, but it was just Thursday. The sun was out, it was kind of chilly, there was the faint smell of fresh cut grass in the air. Just a day. It's like it was mocking them with its normalcy. A woman with a baby on her hip and a cigarette spilling out from the side of her mouth opened the door and stared them down like she didn’t have the faintest clue why there was a group of people looking back at her. Mrs. Korze spoke up first. 

“Ms. Evans, it's Mrs. Korze, we spoke earlier in the week, can we come inside?”

“Uh, oh, yeah. Com’on.” She mumbled, bouncing the baby on her hip. “Just call me Tammy. None’a that ‘Ms.’ bullshit, kay? Yer making me sound like an old maid or somethin'.”

“Right.” Mrs. Korze said dismissively. “Anyway, I’m here on behalf of BLI Social Services. We’ve got Mikey here, say hello, Mikey.” 

Mikey just looked wide eyed up at Tammy who was giving some sort of disinterested sneer. He hid behind Gerard and tried to make himself disappear. 

“Right, well, we’ve already completed the house inspection earlier this week so all you have left to do is sign the paperwork. I can witness it now.”

Mikey tugged at Mrs. Iero’s pant leg and whispered up to her, “Linda? Do I really have to stay here? It smells.”

Mrs. Iero pursed her lips and crossed her arms but didn’t answer him. 

“What kind of inspection? How could this place possibly have passed?” she directed at Mr. Korze. “It’s a pigsty in here. There’s cigarettes everywhere! There’s a- a _bong._ ” she half whispered like a hiss, “right there in the kitchen! This is no place for a child!”

“Ms. Evans, please put the paraphernalia--”

“It’s _Tammy._ ”

“Somewhere the children can’t see.” 

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you have my check?”

“That will arrive within 5 to 10 buisness days.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The baby started crying.

“Excuse me, you should be a little less worried about your check, and a little bit more worried about this child right here. You haven't even said _hello._ ” Mrs. Iero spat. 

A kid came buzzing into the living roof weilding a nerf gun and screaming at the top of his lungs, and shot Gerard right in the eyes with a little foam bullet. “Ow!”  


Mikey gasped. “Linda! I don’t wanna stay here!” 

“I’m not leaving Mikey here.” She said, reverent and unyielding. 

“Hey, she can’t do that!” Tammy raised her voice, and the baby cried harder. She was bouncing it fast on her hip. “I need the money. I’m keepin’ em! We already did all the checkups and all that bullshit. Gimme the papers.” she held out her hand. 

Mrs. Korze slapped the file down on the table and Tammy let out a wicked, satisfied grin.

“No! There’s no way.” Mrs. Iero said, and took Mikey and Gerard’s hands. “We’re going. This is- this should be illegal. This is ridiculous.” 

“If you leave with that child, I’ll have to call the police.” 

“Yea, the fuckin’ cops. See?” Tammy laughed.

“Then do it.” She said, and turned on her heel. Mrs. Korze already had her cell phone out and dialing. 

“Hey!” Tammy shrieked. 

“Mrs. Iero, I’m scared.” Gerard murmured. 

Tammy reached out and grabbed Mikey’s other wrist in a deathgrip and pulled him back with a sharp tug.

“Ahh!” He winced, and stumbled back. “Linda!” 

Mrs. Iero’s face fell, and Gerard was almost scared of her for a second. She looked angry. Furious. Worse than she did at that cold business building where they talked about his- well, at that horrible place. 

Everything started happening all at once and Gerard’s head was spinning, and he didn’t have Frank there to ground him. Frank always helped him feel like he was anchored down when everything was spinning and flying and tipping and sloshing around him, and that way he didn’t get sucked into it and lose himself completely in the madness. 

The baby started wailing. The kid was back with the gun. A reign of plastic bullets hailed down on him, then on Mikey, too! Mr. Korze was talking on the phone with the _police_. Tammy was yanking Mikey’s wrist and Mikey was crying. His face was red, and wet, and miserable. Tammy was screaming and saying lots of dirty curse words. The microwave started beep, beep, beeping in the kitchen. Tammy coughed and dropped her cigarette on the yellowed linoleum floor. Mrs. Iero was still trying to get Mikey out of Tammy’s grasp but she was gripping so hard that his hand was red. The blood was all pooling up and couldn't get back to the rest of his body. Mikey was whimpering. Sirens were blaring in the distance and getting closer with each passing second. 

“Police! Open up!” 

Mrs. Korze opened the door for them and Gerard heard her say something about Mrs. Iero and when she stood up from Mikey’s side they were talking to her in deep, authoritative voices, and Mrs. Iero was just trying to say that she wasn’t going to leave Mikey here in a house full of drugs and cigarettes and lousy people, but Mrs. Korze showed them a stack of papers and they shook their heads and told Mrs. Iero to calm down. She was still talking, though, and wouldn’t let go of Mikey even when they told her to. The main cop who looked like he was in charge told Mrs.Iero to stop it, and then he grabbed her and put cuffs on her wrists and told her that she had to come down to the station. Mrs. Korze didn’t look like she had any emotions at all but Tammy looked smug as hell and lit up another cigarette as they ushered her out the door. 

“Wait!” Gerard yelled from the first steps. “Mrs. Iero! Where- come back!” He didn’t know where to go. And he didn’t want to leave Mikey here all alone. Was he going to have to walk back to Frank’s house all by himself? Was he going to have to stay here? He couldn’t leave Mikey! But then what if the police arrested him too? 

He fell to the floor and cried.


	14. I Want to Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More antics. More characters. Frank isn't in this one though. More Gee centered. Enjoy!

Gerard didn’t have to make any decision about whether to stay or go, because Mrs. Korze grabbed his wrist as soon as the cop cars were out of sight and started pulling him out the door. 

“Mikey—!” he screamed. “Mikey, please— let me go— Mikey!”

“Gee! Don’t leave me! Gee!” Mikey was squirming in Tammy’s grasp but couldn’t get away either. Tears were streaming down his face again and he hiccupped over and over.

Gerard was pushed into the passenger seat of Mrs. Korze’s sedan and he stared out the window until Mikey was just a dot in his vision, and then nothing at all. 

At least he would be able to go home and see Frank, and maybe Mrs. Iero would be back from the police station.

They passed a dunkin donuts, a bowling alley, and a Shoprite food store, which was all fine and dandy, they had lots of those around where he lived, but they’d been driving for at least a half hour and then the buildings started getting bigger and shinier and Gerard wasn’t so sure they were headed back to Frank’s house anymore. The last time he saw those types of buildings was when Mrs. Iero took them to that nasty corporate building by the city.

“Where are we…” Gerard asked in a whisper. He didn’t want to talk to Mrs. Korze if he could help it, but his curiosity got the better of him. 

“Things have changed. We’re sending you to the facility now. You were going to stay another week with your temporary guardian, but she’s currently indisposed, so this is the new plan. I’m going to drop you off tonight and that’s where you’ll be staying until further notice. Consider it your new home, Mr. Way.”

“I don’ wan’ a new home…” he mumbled. “When is Mikey gonna come?”

“Your brother? He’s not coming. He’s staying with Mrs. Evans. That’s _his_ new home.”

“But he’s my brother. We’re supposed to live together.”

“Things don’t always work out the way you want them to.” She kept her eyes on the road. “We have to follow the protocols. The aftermath is secondary.” She was so monotone that Gerard hardly knew if she were robot or human, and almost laughed at the thought that Frank would totally come up with a silly character like that— half robot, half human, maybe one real leg, one bionic, a tentacle arm, a monkey paw— Frank was so ridiculous. He really wished Frank were there.

. . . 

Mrs. Korze pulled up to a big concrete building that Gerard wanted no part of. There was a big sign over the main doors that was rusty and old, and it read “B.L. Industries” in big capital lettering. Gerard wanted to go home. To Frank’s. 

The inside was even worse. It smelled like BO and chlorine, even though Mrs. Korze told him that no, they didn’t have a pool. That air was kind of muggy and there were kids everywhere wandering around. 

She spoke with a man that was sitting at the main desk who had black hair and glasses, and then she walked right out the doors without even saying goodbye. 

_Not even a goodbye?_

The man was looking down at him from behind big frames and said his name was Tom and that Gerard had to wait there while someone came to fetch him. That person was named Trisha and she was very tall and thin. Her hair was cut short like a boy, and alarmingly red like a carrot or a clementine. She ushered Gerard down a long hallway that kids would pop in and out of, going to and fro from one place to another. They went up a flight of metal stairs and ended up in a room that looked like a prison cell with two sets of bunk beds.

Gerard wanted to run far, far away. 

She said that dinner was in the main hall at six and he should ask someone how to get there. With that, she left and he stood alone in the prisionesque cell with only his thoughts to keep him company. 

There was only one window in the room and it was way up high on the wall and very tiny in the shape of a thin rectangle. It didn’t let much light in. The walls were made of gray concrete, in big blocky cinder blocks, and the floor was a smooth type of concrete. There wasn’t even a rug. And the floor was kind of wet like someone had been walking around with wet sneakers. He wasn’t so sure that there wasn’t a pool somewhere around there. 

Trisha didn’t tell him which bed was his, but there was only one that was mas made, so he reasonably assumed that one was his and hopped on. It was the lower bunk on the left side. He didn’t have a chance to bring anything with him so he couldn’t put away his clothes or art supplies, nothing. He didn’t even have his CD player. 

He was staring at the sliver of a window when two boys came crashing through the doorway and tumbled onto the floor screaming.

“Hey—!”

“Let— _let go!_ ” 

“Fuck you! No! Give it back!”

“It’s mine! _Ow_ —!” 

“No, it’s not! You know it’s not—” 

“Fuck, ow—” 

“ _Get off!_ ” 

“Fuck— ow— wait— get off— who's that—?” 

“Who?”

“A _kid._ ”

“What kid?”

“Get the fuck _off_ me, Hurley, and look!”

Hurley, who was pinning down the other kid, slid off and turned his attention to Gerard. “Oh, yeah. A kid. Hey, kid.” 

“Um, Hi.” Gerard said. 

“I didn’t know we were getting a new roommate.” Hurley looked at the other.

“Don't you listen to anything? Flare said next week.” 

“Who the fuck listens to Flare? Fuck her.” 

“Well that’s why you don’t know shit about what goes on around here, it’s cause you never listen, you idiot.” 

“Hey! I'm not an idiot. Fuck you, Toro!” 

“You are a little bit.” Toro laughed. “Sorry, kid, hey. I’m Ray.” Ray smiled and got up off the floor, his clothes damp and dirty and he stuck a hand out to shake. 

Gerard didn’t want to offend this crazy looking guy so he shook. Ray had hair that stood two feet out and frizzled in all directions in a wild afro. He had a sort of inviting demeanor, but he was just sprawled across the floor fighting Hurley so Gerard wasn’t too sure if he could trust him. 

“That’s Andy. Don’t mind him. He’s an idiot.” Ray grinned. 

Andy was huge. He had a tattoo. Gerard was scared of him. He didn’t think he was an idiot. Or at least he would never admit it. He just stared back at Ray with big, scared eyes.

“Okay, well, this must be all pretty new to you, huh, kid? What’s your name?”

“Gerard.”

“Huh, that’s different.” Ray said, as he climbed up to his bunk, the one across from Gerard’s, except Gerard had a bottom bunk. “Gerard as in, what, English, Scottish, Irish? Polish, Dutch, what?”

“Oh. I don’t know, Scottish? My dad was italian, I think, but I'm not sure.”

“Oooh.” Ray whistled. “Yeah, Toro is Spanish. I’m only half Spanish, I think. I don’t know my dad either. You ever met yours? Mine dipped before I could remember him. Toro means _bull_. I think Gerard means _spear_ or _strong_ or something. English was a while ago.”

“Oh. Mh, I don’t know, spear? Maybe. My dad... just died.”

“Oh, fuck.” Ray’s eyes went wide. “Shit, Gerard, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I’m really sorry. Shit.” 

“No, it’s okay… I guess. I mean, I hardly saw him. It was a couple months ago. Well, I found out a couple months ago. He died a few months before that.” 

“That’s rough.” Ray said, rubbing at his chin. “We’re like family here. You’re gonna fit right in, I promise.”

“Yeah?” Gerard looked up at the top bunk. 

“Oh, yeah. For sure. We’re all a bunch of misfits here. You’ll be just fine. How about I give you a tour of the place? Then we can snag some food in Zone 2.” 

“Zone 2?” Gerard cocked his head to the side. Trisha said dinner was in the great hall. 

“Oh, yeah, there’s a lot of lingo around here. You’ll learn. Zone 2 is what we call the great hall, or the area with the kitchen and the dining room basically. C’mon, I’ll show you around. Hurley— you fuck off.” 

“Didn't wanna come anyway.” Hurley mumbled. He wasn’t paying attention anymore. He climbed up to the bunk above Gerard and was reading some magazine called MAD. 

“Okay. So first things first, this is where all the bunks are. This is zone 1. We like to call the west part of the facility Battery city— don’t ask. It has something to do with how shitty the wiring is around here. The lights are always going off and shit. It’s really annoying. This place is huge so it's easy to get lost.”

“ _Oh._ ” 

“There’s, maybe, what, forty rooms up here? So uh, 40 times four is… fuck, well it’s over a hundred kids. Half the rooms are downstairs, but those are where the older kids are. How old are you, anyway?”

“I’ll be 13 soon.” 

“Okay. Cool. I’m 14.” he nodded, and started walking down the hall. “Yeah, so, it’s divided up into zones cause that’s how we know which guards are where. This is technically the bunks, that’s how management will call it, which is self explanatory enough. There’s a guard here, you probably met her, bright orange hair? Looks like a boy? That’s Flare. Also self explanatory.” Ray laughed and motioned towards his hair. “She stays in zone 1. Nobody likes her.” 

Gerard nodded his head. He didn’t like her either. “Okay. Yeah, I can see that.” 

Ray laughed and smiled big like he thought Gerard was funny or something. 

“Okay, let’s go to zone 2. We’ll get some food. It’s probably going to be shit, but you take what you can get. And I can snag you some candy after since you’re new. After that though, you’ll have to get your own, cause that shit’s like gold.”

He followed Ray down the metal stairwell and through a series of off-white hallways until they reached a big auditorium looking space with a little kitchen assembly line in the corner, and the rest of it filled with benches. Ray ushered him on line and the grumpy looking lady behind the counter handed them trays full of squishy looking food. Mashed potatoes, maybe? Ground turkey? Pea soup? What, did they think he didn’t have teeth? 

“I know… I know.” Ray sighed, looking at Gerard. “Just scarf it down. It's better to have something in your stomach than nothing at all.”

Gerard poked at it with his spork and groaned. Nothing at all didn’t sound so bad. He wasn’t sure if Ray would get some candy, though, if he didn’t do what he said, so he brought a sporkful up to his mouth and, _ick_ , down the hatch. 

Gerard threw up on the bench.


	15. Oh, Sport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard wants to call home

“Ah, shit, man!” Ray winced, scrambling to the side, almost avoiding Gerard barfing all over the table and by association, him, too. 

Gerard didn’t even move from the bench, which was weird. Kid was just sitting there all green in the face and covered in sickly bile. So Ray did the only thing he could in the moment; he got Gerard up to his feet and hauled him off to the bathroom to get him washed up. If there was something that needed fixing, Ray was your guy. Didn’t matter if it was a broken bulb, broken sink, or broken spirit.

Gerard was muttering something about back home and his best friend, but it fell of deaf ears as Ray was already up to his elbows in water, scrubbing him up in a tiny bathroom sink that wasn’t made for taking a bath. When he was finished, it wasn’t apparent whether Gerard’s face was covered in water or tears, but Ray patted him on the back and told him everything would be okay anyway.

“Come on, kid, it’s not that bad.” Ray patted Gerard on the back. Gerard shrugged his hand off. It wasn’t Frank’s. “Nobody even noticed. Or maybe they did, but nobody will remember in a few days. Don’t even sweat it. Besides, you’re new, you get a pass on stuff like that.” 

“I d-don’t care about that.” He sniffed, wiping his face with a wet hand. 

“What? Why are you crying then? Miss home? I'm sorry dude.” 

“Yeah. I wanna talk to Frankie. And my brother Mikey. And my mom. No— I mean, my friend’s mom. I wanna talk to her too.” He ducked his head, trying to hide the growing redness.

“Ah, man.” Ray sighed. “I’d totally lend you some money to make a call, but I spent it all this morning on a Twix. The one that fucking Hurley stole. Anyway, I’ve only got like, 20 cents left.” 

“How much money is it?” Gerard looked up at Ray. “To call someone? How much?”

“Uhm, like 75 cents. I forget. I haven’t called someone in ages. But there are these payphones way over on the west side near Battery City. I’ll… take you there. Just this once. After that, you’re on your own. I don’t like going to that part it— it’s, well, I’ll explain later. For now, let’s see if we can rummage up some change for your call, yeah?”

Gerard nodded, lips pursed. Ray led him down a few hallways. The ceiling seemed to stretch up forever; it was like it rose all the way up to the sky. Despite that, it was dark, too. Everything was made of metal. Shiny, gray, and vaguely moist. The building was very humid. Gerard scanned the crevices where the wall met the floor, certain he would find mold, and rolled his eyes when little black dots and white fuzzy patches popped up everywhere. Gross.

“We’re gonna go see Tommy.” Ray said, looking back at him. “Tommy is loaded. He’s got a rich aunt that sends him money. Doesn’t want ‘em, but she’ll make sure he’s got cash. More than most of us have at least.” 

“Okay.” Gerard shuffled closer to Ray. “I don’t have anything to give him though. I didn’t even get to bring my stuff with me.” 

“Nothing at all?”

Gerard shook his head. 

“Damn, kid.” Ray turned left and stopped in front of the third door. “Okay, this is it. Don’t talk, alright? I’ll handle it.” He banged on the door and some shuffling came from inside before the door creaked open just enough for an eyeball to poke out from the darkness inside. Gerard squinted at it. Some type of lizard-man?

“Yo, Tommy. I need a favor. New kid here ain't got any money for call. Hasn’t talked to his family yet. Whadda’ say you throw some his way? I’m gonna take him over to the payphones.”

“You’re taking that lil’ pipsqueak to the payphones?”

“Yeah. I know. But it’s the only option he’s got.” 

Lizard man made a noise from inside. 

“Dude, it’s not like he’s got a cell. And he doesn’t even have enough cash to use the payphone, so he sure as shit can’t buy one.” 

“I’m just sayin’.” Tommy’s eye said. “I’ll give you some money. Only cause it’s you, Toro. You got that? And don’t be asking for any more charity.” The eye darted over to Gerard and he froze, cold as ice. It scanned him bottom to top. “Poor kid looks like he just saw the devil.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ray sighed. “They always do.” 

Tommy’s eye disappeared and when it came back, a hand slid through the crack and dumped a bunch of coins into Ray’s open palm, clinking and plinking together as he shoved them in his pocket.

“Thank’s Tommy, I owe you one.” Ray smiled. Tommy shut the door. 

Ray looked back over at him with a big smile. “Okay. Let’s go get you that phone call.”

. . . 

Getting from Zone 2 where the bunks were to Battery City where the payphones were wasn’t too far, but getting there was tricky. Flare was on patrol for Zone 2, and she’d stop you with a million questions and a death stare if she caught you wandering around looking suspicious, which everyone always did to her. Most times she’d send you back to your bunk, either watching you herself or having one of the lame kids escort you back. There were a bunch of kids that complied with Flare and Sprawl and all the BLS crap. Ray said those kids sucked ass. 

Avoiding Flare meant ducking down low enough not to be seen and getting through the halls as quick as you could. You had to take the halls that only connected to offices and storage, not the main hallways. It was longer that way, but there was much less chance of being caught sneaking around when you ought to be sitting in your bunk staring mindlessly at the blank concrete walls. 

The harder part was when you crossed over into Battery City. Then the lame kids were all over. If you could, you could try to blend in with them, but most times they’d know your face. Or your hair, in Ray’s case. So the two of them stuck to the side of the wall and made a run for it when the hall leading to the main office cleared out. The payphones were on the wall behind it. Gerard crouched with his back to the wall, heart racing, and eyes scanning the room for any traces of movement. Ray tugged his hand just as a pair of sneakers rounded the corner and pulled him down under a stairwell. Ray’s breath was hot against his shoulder and he winced. He tried to rub it away, but just ended up albowing him in the face. 

“Fuck— ow! Watch it!” Ray groaned.

“Ah— sorry!” Gerard blushed. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“C’mon, it's fine. Get up. This is a good spot. They’re right here.” Ray tugged him to his feet and led him to a metal phone drilled to the wall. 

Gerard stared at it. “Ray…”

“What? You gonna make your call?” 

“I don’t know the number…” Gerard looked down at his shoes, feeling the familiar sting forming behind his eyes. 

“Ah, fuck. Okay, stay here. Okay? Sit down back in the corner. As far back as you can. No one can see you there. The stairwell hides you pretty well.” 

Ray stalked off, in a fast and practiced movement, and was gone for at least five, maybe 10 minutes, and Gerard was starting to pick at his fingernails and draw blood. If Ray didn’t come back soon, he was going to start crying. This could just be an elaborate prank. Gerard was stupid for ever blieveing that Ray could ha—

“Okay. Here.” Ray ran up and dropped a heavy yellow book in his lap, and he yelped. “Shh!”

“Sorry.” Gerard said. “Wow This is huge.” 

“Open it up, what’s the name?”

“Way. Mikey Way.” 

“Okay…” Ray’s tongue flickered out as he leafed through the pages. “Waterfield… Waver… Waxly… Way. There we go. Christian… Donna… Brandon… There’s no Mikey.” 

“Donna is my mom.” Gerard said, eyeing the little black newsprint. 

“Okay, good we’ll call her.”

“No!” Gerard clipped. “No, we can’t. She’s not at home anymore.”  


“Oh. Well where’s Mikey?” Ray looked over at him.

“I don’t know. Some lady named Tammy.”

“Uh. Well i don’t think we can look Tammy up without her last name.” 

“But my brother…” Gerard looked to the side. His chest was getting tight. 

“How about you friend, uh, Frank?”

Gerard gasped. Right! Frank. He hadn’t heard Frank’s voice in… in… way too long! And Mrs. Iero would know Mikey’s number too. She knew everything. 

Gerard flipped through to _Iero_ and tore out the page. Ray frowned but he didn’t say anything, he just put the coins into the phone and typed in the number. 

It started to ring. It kept ringing and ringing and ringing forever. It rang for five years straight before the line crackled and Mr. Iero’s voice came through. 

“Iero residence. Frank speaking.”

“Mr. Iero!” Gerard breathed out. “It’s me, Gerard. Hi. Uhm. Can I, uh, talk to Frank? Is Frank home?” 

“Gerard! Oh, sport, we’re so worried about you. Where are you?”

“M’at a home for kids, I think.” he mumbled. 

“They treating you okay? You get fed?”

“The food here is gross.” he frowned. 

“You tell me if anyone gives you a hard time, you got that?” Mr. Iero sounded stern, like his face had that cold steely look he gets when he comes home from the office late or he misses the game cause someone forgot to switch it back after the commercials. 

“Yeah, okay, I will.” Gerard heard Mr. Iero shout up the stairs for Frank, and some shuffling around before his belly got all warm and his chest loosened up, and a smile played on his lips. 

“Gee!” Frank squealed. “OhmygodwhereareyouImissyousomuchwhydidntyoucomehome—” he panted, sucking in a big breath. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

“Mrs. Korze took me to some stupid place for kids with no parents.” Gerard sniffled. “I miss you, Frankie. I wanna come home.” 

“I miss you too, Gee. You’ll come home soon. Mom’s still at the jail but Dad said they’re gonna let her go in the morning so we’re gonna ride down there at six and then after that maybe we can come get you!” Frank vomited out. 

“You think so?” Gerard whispered. He looked over at Ray who was looking back, but turned his head instantly. He was listening in. There wasn't anything better to do sitting there under the stairwell with nothing but Gerard’s hushed voice and the distant sound of sneakers down the hall to keep them company. “I don’t wanna be here, Frankie. It smells bad like chlorine. There’s mold everywhere and the floors are muddy and all the kids look scary.”

“Soon, Gee, I promise.” Frank whispered.

Gerard let the words hang in between them.

“Gee?” Frank said. 

“Yeah, Frankie?” 

“I lov—”

_Click._

“Frankie…? Hello?” He shook the receiver. “Frank? Is this on?”

“Looks like you ran out of time.” Ray said. “75 cents is only five minutes.” 

The tightness in his chest was back. He gripped the phone in his hands, frozen to the spot. He didn’t want to go back to his bunk. He didn’t want to walk through the wet moldy halls. He didn’t want to see Hurley. He didn’t want to do anything but listen to Frankie. Listen to Frankie tell him... he _loved_ him?

What if Frankie thought he hung up on him because he said that? Gerard bit the skin by his nail so hard that it left blood smeared on his lip. He loved Frankie too. He loved Frankie more than anything in the entire world, even more than comic books and Black Flag and Mrs. Iero's garlic bread that she learned from Frank's grandma and said was a secret recipe.

He dropped his head and brought his knees up to his chest, groaning. Ray hauled him up and made him move his feet. One in front of the other. 

When they made it back to the dorm it was dark and Hurley was snoring in his bunk. There was someone in the lower bunk next to his, and Ray climbed up onto his own before passing out. He toed off his Sketchers and wiggled his feet under the scratchy blanket. 

Tomorrow morning he would be out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I have very little knowledge of Danger Days Lore / the comic / anything at all
> 
> I'm completely making things up here, the layout of the place, and I'm not even really sure what battery city even is. 
> 
> Like, where the evil people hang out? Or brainwashed people? Idfk. 
> 
> Doesn't matter too much, it's just my dumb lil fanfic, so take my shitty facts and eat 'em up, kids.


End file.
